


Crazy Faith

by BrynnaRaven



Category: Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage of Convenience, Romance, Slow Burn, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-06-21 22:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15567948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrynnaRaven/pseuds/BrynnaRaven
Summary: It is 1899. Cora and Alice Munro leave an ill-favored life in Colorado behind to join their father, a gold prospector, in Alaska. On the way, they meet three capable men in whom they must place their wary confidence. On arrival they part company, but a major setback throws them together again, leading to a decision that offers Cora and Alice a chance to learn to trust, and to love.





	1. The Adventure Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet most of our main characters. Munro, feeling guilt over his obsession with finding gold, is eager for his daughters to arrive in Alaska. Meanwhile Cora and Alice are equally wanting to leave Colorado and the life they were left to when their father struck out for the Klondike, and then Nome. The sisters find themselves in a dangerous situation that culminates in an unexpected end.

**Crazy Faith**

_“I lit my love and watched it burn_  
_Asking nothing in return_  
_Except the lessons I will learn_  
_By holding crazy faith_  
  
_I've been touched by that bright fire_  
_Down to the root of my desire_  
_While the smoke it rises higher_  
_On my crazy faith_  
  
_You’re not asking if I love this man_  
_I know you don't, you don't believe you can_  
_Yet I've seen love open like a dancer’s fan_  
_It's crazy I know, but my faith says so_  
_It tells me_  
  
_Am I a fool for hanging on_  
_Would I be a fool to be long gone_  
_When is daylight going to dawn_  
_On my crazy faith_  
  
_The questions will not let me sleep_  
_Answers buried way too deep_  
_At the bottom of a lovers’ leap_  
_Made by crazy faith_

 _You’re not asking if I love this man_  
_I know you don't, you don't believe you can_  
_Yet I've seen love open like a dancer’s fan_  
_It's crazy I know, but my faith says so_  
_It tells me_  
  
_Love your losing, lose your love_  
_Let the hawk fly from the glove_  
_Do not search the skies above_  
_Search your crazy faith_  
  
_Love is lightning, love is ice_  
_It only strikes the lucky twice_  
_Once so you will know the price_  
_And once for crazy faith_  
  
_You’re not asking if love this man_  
_I know you don't, you don't believe you can_  
_Yet I've seen love open like a dancer’s fan_  
_It's crazy I know_  
_But my faith says so…”_

_-Mark Simos (For Alison Krauss)-_

**Chapter 1**

**_***TRIGGER WARNING!!!*** This chapter contains a situation involving non-rape sexual assault/nonconsensual touching._ **

**_Nome, Alaska, 1899_ **

Edmund Munro sat at the makeshift desk in the corner of his tiny cabin, poring over documents in the dim light cast by the lantern hanging on the low log beam above, a fire staving off the chilly air. Even in May, Alaska was frigid at night, but still it was better here than the unforgiving Klondike had been. He shuddered at the too-recent memory of that hellish and unsuccessful venture. At least there was better weather here along the Snake River, and a far better chance at success finding gold. He’d pretty well lost his ass in Dawson City, and he desperately needed to recoup those losses here; for himself, and more importantly for his daughters whom he had failed and left to fend for themselves. Fortunately, the relocation to Nome was so far promising to be a wise move based on what he and his few remaining men were recovering just from panning the beaches, and soon enough his family would be together again. He sighed, his fatigue showing in the leathery lines around his cornflower-blue eyes, stray locks of his too-long steel-grey hair falling haphazardly across his forehead. He stood abruptly when a knock sounded at the door and it creaked open slowly.

            “Ah, Duncan. What can I do for you, my boy?” The weary Scotsman smiled, moving his hand from the Colt .45 revolver at his hip. A strapping, square-jawed young Englishman stepped inside, removing his weathered hat so that his ginger hair caught the dancing firelight like spun rose gold.

            “Apologies for the interruption at this late hour, but I leave for Seattle tomorrow morning, sir. I only wondered if there is anything else you might have thought of for me to bring back when I return, supplies or otherwise?”

            “Of course. I don’t think so, only what’s on the list I’ve given you. Mining season is coming upon us, and we’ve got to get sluices and rockers built soon if we’re going to have any chance of reclaiming our loss in Yukon territory. And of course, your most important task – getting my daughters here to me safely.”

            “Of course, sir. I expect the scout I sent to have already reached them by now, and them well on their way to rendezvous with me in Seattle. I would imagine I’ll have a telegram waiting when I arrive saying as much.”

            “Good, good. I can’t stand to think of them alone in that godforsaken place anymore, it crushes my soul to think of what I’ve put them through, and for what? Failure in the Klondike. I should have left well enough alone and been happy with the small success I had in Cripple Creek. Invested in something to earn steady capital instead of chasing more wealth. But there’s no going back now.” Munro shook his head and stepped closer to the fire, his back to Duncan. The younger man glanced down at the papers on Munro’s desk, one in particular catching his eye for several moments before he looked up again to reply.

            “Don’t despair, sir. All will be right in due time, I can feel it. Once I see Cora and Alice here safely and we have the equipment we need to move enough earth, things will be well enough again – I daresay more than well enough, if all goes accordingly. And, Providence willing, Cora will accept my proposal as willingly as you have supported it.” He glanced down at the papers once more, an odd smile on his face. It was gone by the time Munro turned to face him with a nod and a deep sigh.

            “I do hope so, lad, and there is no one I’d trust more to escort my girls to me unharmed. You’ve been an asset to us all these last several years, and I hope Cora sees you as such, but you’ll remember she’s stubborn, and likely more so than ever by now. There won’t be any pushing her if she’s not of like mind.”

            “Quite so, sir. Well, I’ll be going so you may retire in quiet.” He put out his right hand, and Munro shook it firmly.

            “I shall see you upon your return from Seattle, then. Safe travel to you, Heyward. Much depends on it.”

* * *

**_Cripple Creek, Colorado - The Patroon’s House Saloon_ **

            Cora Munro pushed a loose strand of her dark, wavy hair off her face, stopping by the window of the tiny bedroom she was cleaning. She opened the sash enough to let in some fresh morning air against the smell of stale sweat, liquor, and other things she didn’t care to think too hard about from the night before. The weather was unseasonably hot and balmy for this time of year in Colorado, and everything felt sticky today. Of course, that wasn’t saying much, considering she was standing in a cramped, recently-used whore’s room, with the sounds of preparation for this afternoon’s crowd already filtering up from the saloon and kitchen below. She finished gathering soiled laundry into her basket and turned to leave just as the room’s resident came in, her pink dressing gown tied closed over her low-cut cotton shift.

            “I don’t know why you and Alice bother makin’ up the beds, Cora,” the young woman said, her pile of dark auburn curls shaking as she chuckled, reaching for the showy emerald-green corset and skirt draped over a wooden chair. “They’ll be screwed up soon enough, in more ways than one.” She laughed again, the sound turning into a deep cough.

            Cora smiled. “We don’t do it for them, we do it so that you’ll at least get to enjoy a clean room for part of your day before the saloon opens. But you’re still not well enough to be taking customers, Grace. I wish you wouldn’t.” She touched her friend’s arm with concern. She had nursed the woman through a severe illness in the past several weeks, and it still hadn’t cleared up completely.

            “It ain’t about whether I want to, Cora, you know that. I _got_ to, or I’ll be out on my ass. If I can’t work, I can’t live here, and if I ain’t here I got nowhere else to go.”

            Cora nodded sadly. “I know, I just… I wish it could be different. For all of you.”

            Grace shrugged. “It ain’t the worst. It can always be worse, right? Franny’s good to us and treats us fair. And hey, look at you and Alice. You’re gettin’ by decent, and at least Franny ain’t got y’all working on your backs.”

            _There but for the grace of God go I,_ Cora thought darkly, her brows furrowing above her brown eyes. There were plenty of lecherous customers who often wished it otherwise, and the drunker ones didn’t always keep their hands to themselves. The only reason Cora and her younger sister Alice hadn’t been forced into questionable employment was because Franny McCann, the proprietor here at The Patroon’s House, knew and loved Edmund Munro well enough not to put his daughters in such a position, especially since Alice was so young. Besides Munro’s wrath being feared even from such great distance, Franny’s late husband Malcolm had been a good friend of his when they had both been in the Army together. After their commissions had ended, they’d ventured west and put their efforts into gold mining. They had been lucky and had made a decent return from their claim – not a fortune, but enough to be moderately comfortable. Edmund had made sure Franny received her due share when Malcolm had been killed in a mining accident, and she’d used some of the capital to buy The Patroon’s House from its previous owner, who had wanted to move on to California. Franny was a shrewd businesswoman, and the place had done well under her rule. She was fair-minded and took good care of the women in her employ, which was more than could be said of many other saloon owners.  

            When Edmund Munro’s mine had stopped producing and before he sank into financial ruin, he had decided to gamble the remainder of his Cripple Creek spoils on an attempt to strike it rich in Yukon territory. He had sold their house in order to leave Cora and Alice with a small sum of money to survive on, and Franny had promised to look after them and give them honest work in return for Edmund making sure she was set up well when Malcolm had died. She gave the sisters room and board, and in exchange they helped Franny keep the barroom, bath, and the whores’ rooms clean, did laundry, and helped serve food and drink in the saloon in the evenings. Additionally, Cora had become valuable to the saloon girls because of the medical knowledge she had acquired over the years, and they often sought her out for treatment for various ailments and injuries. Some of the poorer miners’ families occasionally came knocking at the back door for her help as well, being less able to afford the town’s one physician. Cora had a reputation for being kind, and she was willing to accept what little money they could pay, or trade for things she and Alice or other residents at the saloon might need.

            “Yes, Grace,” she agreed solemnly. “It could always be worse.” She turned to leave, her face breaking into a smile when she saw Alice coming out of a room down the hall with a full laundry basket of her own. Her dark honey-blonde hair was piled up high off her neck in the heat, her brow dewy above her big hazel eyes.

            “Shall we get laundry done before it gets even hotter?” she asked Cora with a rueful smile. “At least we know it will dry quickly in the heat of the day.” The sisters descended the wooden stairs together, and were met near the bottom by Franny Mc Cann, already dressed for the day in sapphire blue silk taffeta, her brown hair done up in curls with a jaunty black hat perched at the front. She held a folded piece of paper in one hand.

            “Girls, there’s a telegram come for you,” she informed them with a smile, holding out the paper. “It’s from Seattle.”

            “It must be from Papa!” Alice gasped, taking it eagerly and nearly tearing it in her haste to unfold it so she and Cora could read it together. They so rarely heard from their father, and often feared bad news when they did. Both sisters wished he had simply left well enough alone and never gone north at all, but his mild success in Cripple Creek had lit an unquenchable fire in him and his head engineer Duncan Heyward, and there was no dissuading them from their mission. The last telegram from Munro had said only that he and the other men with him had reached Nome safely, but his daughters had had no update until now on their father’s latest effort to find his fortune in gold.

 

“CORA AND ALICE A GUIDE WILL COME SOON TO BRING YOU TO SEATTLE TO MEET D HEYWARD AT GATEWAY HOTEL ON OCCIDENTAL ST AND JOIN ME IN NOME ALL IS WELL AND HAVE MISSED YOU BOTH MUCH LOVE PAPA”

 

            Cora stared blankly at the telegram, until Alice’s delighted gasp snapped her out of her fog. Alice dropped her laundry basket and hugged Cora.

            “What does it say?” Franny asked them. “Good news I hope?”

            “Oh yes! Papa has sent someone to fetch us and take us north to join him!” Alice exclaimed happily, letting go of Cora to throw her arms around the older woman. “Oh, I wonder when the guide will arrive? It says ‘soon’, but that could be any time!”

            “I suppose we’ll simply have to see,” Cora replied, returning her sister’s happy smile. “It would take weeks for someone to reach us from that distance, but things must be going well in Nome if he’s sending for us.”

            Alice bounced on her toes and grabbed her older sister’s hands. “What an adventure! I won’t be able to sleep for the excitement of waiting!”

            “Well, as much as we’ll all miss you gals around here once you’ve gone, it’s high time y’all get out of here and get on with life,” Franny said, placing a hand on each of their arms. “It ain’t proper to be livin’ in a place like this when you’re so young and well-bred. But at the same time, God knows what’ll await in Alaska either. It certainly ain’t the place to find a respectable man around every corner.”

            “You’ve been good to take us in as you did, Franny,” Alice assured her. “As for Alaska, I’m barely nineteen, and I don’t give a fig about finding a husband yet, not when there are so many new and exciting experiences to be had first. Nor does Cora, despite her ripe old age of twenty-four… though I suspect Duncan Heyward may try to change her mind once we are all reunited, given that he _“sends his best_ ” to her in every telegram or letter Papa has sent since they left here.” Alice grinned at Cora and wiggled her brows teasingly, causing Cora to roll her eyes and sigh. Duncan had shown interest in her since he had been employed by her father as his chief mining engineer here in Cripple Creek. He was loyal to her father and seemed like a decent man, but Cora was not at all sure how she felt about him as a marriage prospect. She had never felt particularly attracted to him, and something about him simply didn’t sit right with her, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

            Franny laughed. “All right, off with us all. We open in two hours, I’ve got bookkeeping to do, and all that laundry ain’t gonna wash itself.” She patted their faces and bustled down the narrow hallway to the room that served as her office. The sisters headed toward the back door with their baskets, where the washtub and clothesline awaited behind the building. Alice hummed happily to herself, while Cora ruminated quietly on their father’s telegram. For the most part, she shared Alice’s excitement. The idea of traveling so far, meeting new people, seeing new things and beautiful, wild places – that appealed to her very much. She appreciated what Franny had done for them, but she was ready to leave this life behind. As well as Franny treated her employees, the environment was still depressing and a little hopeless, and since Alice was getting older and her slender figure filling out, the customers took more and more notice of her, which worried Cora to no end. Franny was right – a saloon full of drunk miners and cowboys was no place for two young women who weren’t “working girls” and had no intention of becoming such. Cora had been drunkenly cornered and groped in a dark hallway more than once, narrowly avoiding being raped on one occasion. It had left her so shaken that she hardly ever let Alice leave her sight for fear of the same happening to her, or worse. Franny couldn’t protect them forever, and some men were more violent than others. Both sisters had seen and heard enough around The Patroon’s House to know they were ready to be away from such a place, and even so, Cora expected, some of those memories would haunt them for a long time, even thousands of miles away in Alaska. Like Alice, she wanted to see their father again, but her anticipation was also tinged with a resentment she couldn’t help feeling at being left behind to this life in the first place.

* * *

            The following Friday, The Patroon’s House was inundated with customers celebrating the week’s end with drinking, gambling, and the company of women. Cora and Alice were helping the bartender serve drinks and running food from the kitchen. Franny made her rounds between the barroom and upstairs, making sure no one caused trouble or overstayed their allotted time with the girls. Cora stopped at one of the card tables to say hello to Robert, a handsome, dark-haired miner who often came in to see Grace. Grace was perched on his lap and seemed quite happy to give him her undivided attention. Cora knew that at least for her friend, Robert was more than the average customer, and Grace missed him when he didn’t come around. She suspected by the light in Robert’s eyes that the feeling might be mutual, and secretly hoped that one day he might make enough at mining gold to marry Grace, and she would never have to do this kind of work again.

            Across the barroom, Alice dropped off a round of bourbon for a table of men she’d never seen before, most likely just passing through town on their way to somewhere else. _I wish I was already on my way somewhere else_ , she thought distractedly, wishing their guide would arrive already so she and Cora could go and be with Edmund again. This round of drinks was one of many she’d delivered to this particular table, and each time she’d come back, the men grew drunker, rowdier, and behaved more lewdly toward her, particularly their ringleader, a burly man with stringy hair and icy blue eyes that made Alice shudder a little when she looked into them. He gave her the feeling she really ought to steer clear of him, but he was a customer and he hadn’t done anything to warrant being denied service, unless pinching her backside every time she walked by the table counted against him.

            “Not so fast, pretty gal,” he called out as she turned quietly to leave, wrapping an arm around her in an attempt to pull her onto his lap. “How about you stay here and keep me amused for a little bit while I finish this poker game, and then we can continue the entertainment upstairs after that?” His eyes moved down her front.

            Alice stiffened, and her cheeks flushed as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m not… I don’t… that is, I’m only helping to serve drinks and food, I’m not a… I don’t work here like that.”

            “Well, ain’t that a damn shame, boys?” He slurred, still hanging onto Alice while his friends looked on and encouraged him. He leaned in, his eyes chilling her to the bone, and she could smell the cheap bourbon mixed with his sour breath. “Maybe the owner of this place ought to change that, huh? Pretty, proper little English miss like you, you’d catch a fine price for a tumble in bed. I’d pay it. You ever been with a man before, sweetheart?” His hand slid down from her hip and he gave her bottom a rough squeeze.

            “Alice, is everything all right?” Cora’s voice behind her was full of repressed anger, knowing everything was definitely not all right.

            “Yes,” Alice replied firmly, grabbing the customer’s hand and pushing it away so she could get up. “I was just explaining to this _gentleman_ , and I use that term _quite_ loosely, that if he desires the kind of company he’s after, he may look elsewhere.”

            The other four men at the table laughed at that, and the troublemaker’s eyes grew angry at the embarrassment. His narrowed gaze shifted to Cora.

            “And what about you, sweet thing? You her mama, or what?”

            “No, her sister, and as she already said, you’d best look elsewhere if it’s a warm bed you’re after. We’ve got other work to do.” She took Alice’s arm and led her away, and Alice could feel her sister’s hand shaking despite the grip on her elbow. “Stay away from them for the rest of the evening,” she said quietly. If they want more drinks, I’ll take them.”

            “Why, so they can treat you just as awful?” Alice hissed back. “Let them go to the bar and see Bill if they want to get drunker. I’m going to find Franny to tell her to watch out for them. I get the feeling whatever poor girl he ends up with isn’t going to get treated very well, and Franny won’t stand for that.”

            Cora nodded and let Alice go, her stomach in knots. She went toward the saloon doors to speak to Liam, the gargantuan Irishman whose six and a half feet of well-muscled presence generally kept undesirable behavior at bay – but not always. Before she reached him, she was flagged down by a table to fetch drinks for them, so she set about doing that with the intent to talk to Liam as soon as she was done. While she was behind the bar, she didn’t see the troublemaker get up from his table and follow Alice into the dim, isolated back hallway by the stairs. It was only when she glanced over and saw him missing from the table, and Alice nowhere to be seen, that her heart plummeted inside her ribcage. Without thinking further, she rushed alone toward the hallway, an empty whiskey bottle still in her hand, trying to calculate exactly how long Alice had been gone. Long enough, it would seem.

            Rage rose like wildfire inside Cora when she found Alice in the dark near the back door, pinned against the wall by the big stranger, who was attempting to lift her skirt while she struggled against the large hand covering her mouth, her eyes wild with helpless, angry fear.

            “Prissy little bitch, you think you’re too good for this? Well, you ain’t. Stay still, goddammit,” he hissed, shoving a knee between her legs. He was either too drunk, too focused, or a little of both, but either way he never saw Cora behind him. “Maybe we oughtta get that sister of yours involved in the fun too,” he grunted, shoving himself against Alice.

            “That sounds like a fine idea,” Cora intoned harshly, smashing the empty bottle she held against the back of his head. He toppled away from Alice in shock, his body slamming into the closed door across from him, but he didn’t go down. Alice leapt away from the wall, nearly hyperventilating with relief, but it was short lived when the man stumbled forward and made a grab for Cora.

            “You fucking bitch,” he snarled, shoving her backward and then clutching a fistful of her long, thick hair. Blood streamed down the side of his neck from where she’d hit him with the bottle.

            “Stop it! Let her go, you filthy bastard!” Alice yelled, trying to pull him away from her sister. He shoved her roughly away and dragged Cora into the barroom, too drunk and angry now to remember there were people everywhere. He threw her down onto a tabletop, glass smashing to the floor beside her, and the impact knocked the breath from her for a moment. He moved to trap her there with his body, but she raised her legs and kicked him hard away from her, getting to her feet as quickly as she could manage to. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man’s friends rushing over from their table, and then she saw stars as he backhanded her hard across her right cheek. She reeled back from the impact, pain exploding through her sinuses, and Alice caught her and pulled her back to the safety of the bar. She slumped onto the floor with a groan, and Alice looked at her face, already swelling from the hit.

            “Cora, your face! You’ll be all black and blue!”

            “I’m all right,” she insisted. “And more importantly, you’re all right.”

            Alice hugged her with a sob. “I hate this place. I wish we could leave now!”

            Liam had come over from his post by the door and now punched the stranger square in the face, knocking him out cold. The man’s friends jumped on Liam, and in no time sides were taken and there was an all-out barroom brawl going on. Whores and customers alike came out of upstairs rooms to gawk at the calamity below them. It didn’t get very far before a single gunshot stopped the entire room dead. Cora and Alice peered around the bar to see a man standing in the doorway holding a smoking Winchester rifle, dust falling from the hole he’d shot in the roof above. He was striking and rather frightening. Some kind of Indian, tall and strong and dark-skinned with craggy features carved out of stone and a downturned, disapproving mouth. His black hair was long and tied back, he was dressed in a well-worn buckskin jacket and pants, and he looked as if he’d been traveling the earth for decades. Eyes as black as obsidian glinted as his gaze swept over the room.

            “Frances McCann.” He stated simply, his voice booming in the silence.

            “That would be me. What can I do for you?” His sharp eyes lit on a slightly pale-faced Franny, who had stopped midway in her rush down the staircase when his rifle shot had rung out.

            “I was told that the Scotsman’s daughters were at The Patroon’s House.” He gestured at the sign hanging above the door, proclaiming the name of the establishment. “Munro. Alice and Cora. I am Magua. I was sent by Duncan Heyward to take them north to Seattle.”

            Alice took Cora’s arm with a quiet gasp, and the sisters stood and slowly emerged from behind the bar, both thinking that the granting of their wish to be rid of this place once and for all could not have come at a better time.

 

* * *

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:**

First of all, I must thank you, readers, for your patience as you waited and waited for the first chapter of this story. It took so much longer than I wanted it to take. Trying to write after being back at work and having a lot of other things going on is a HUGE challenge. I am working more than I thought I would be initially, but I don’t mind because I absolutely adore my job – for those not following me on Tumblr, I started working as a post-op nurse at an orthopaedic surgery center back in March, and it is wonderful there, and I am so happy, but also so busy. In addition, in May I finally did something I’ve wanted to do my whole adult life – I passed my motorcycle safety course for my license endorsement, and I became the proud owner of a beautiful black 2012 Honda Shadow Spirit, aptly dubbed Raven. Needless to say, my addiction to motorcycling and all that comes with it was swift and merciless, and I spend more time riding Raven out on mountain and country highways than I should, but I can’t help it. I’m in love! Lastly, I got into a slump in June when I lost my sweet, amazing ride-or-die kitty of thirteen years, Batman. Our household misses him terribly. But at last I was able to buckle down and get this chapter written, and I hope future chapters will not take so damned long.

            That being said, this AU is a very different one, and I’m interested to see how this story progresses and what you guys think of it. I know the plot, but as you know, the characters often dictate what actually gets written, and I think this will be a fun journey. I love 19thcentury period settings, so that seemed a natural choice. I can’t tell you exactly what made me go with a setting in Alaska, except there was just something about the majesty of it, and the unforgiving yet deeply beautiful environment there. There are some interesting parallels, too, since Alaska is dubbed “The Last Frontier”, and LOTM is a story of the eastern Frontier. Also like the eastern woodlands, both the fur trade and gold rushes also displaced First Nations people in Alaska and Canada. Instead of a burning desire to serve the war interests of Britain, in this story Edmund Munro has a burning desire to find his fortune in gold, and Duncan is his main man. The Yukon/Klondike gold rush hit just a few years before the Nome gold rush, and very few who made the extreme and deadly effort saw a big payoff. Many of these prospectors really did leave Dawson City in the Yukon and head to Nome when gold was discovered along the Snake River, because it was easier to find and easier to mine there, so more people saw success in the end. It was also much easier to get there – steamships could go between Seattle and Nome fairly regularly, and so in the late 19thcentury, Seattle shifted from being primarily a logging town and also became a major supply port for the mining industry.

            When I first contrived this idea, and I mean in the VERY early days, I will confess I almost had Alice and Cora actually being whores, but in that early plot their father was dead, and they had been forced into it out of desperation. Frankly I couldn’t stand the idea of doing that to them (and they didn’t like it much either), so obviously things changed a bit. Me knowing where this plot goes, I think it works much better this way and makes a better story. Why a whorehouse at all, you may ask? Well, there are several reasons, and you’ll find out along the way, but mostly I needed to give the sisters some trust issues involving men, and in the west back then, especially in small mining towns like Cripple Creek (a real place by the way), there weren’t many other employment options for women yet, unfortunately. The situation they are in, with Franny’s late husband being a friend and partner of Munro’s, seemed the best way to have them in that kind of environment without them being expected to work as whores, but still being exposed to enough of that life to make them a little gun-shy.

            This story does have kind of a soundtrack, though not the same way as Flying Into the Fire did. Most of what I like for this one is instrumental bluegrass and Celtic music, and occasionally a song in that genre with lyrics. The entire story brings to mind the song at the beginning of this chapter, “Crazy Faith” by Alison Krauss and Union Station, for a couple of reasons – one being the crazy faith it took to be a gold prospector like Munro back then, and most primarily because of things that happen later in the story. This first chapter I was inspired by “Dark Circles” by Bela Fleck & the Flecktones. I liked the lazy waltz of it for the opening scenes, and it has a slight restlessness to it that brought to mind how Munro is feeling guilty and missing his daughters, and Alice and Cora in their current living situation in the less-than-desirable environment at The Patroon’s House.

            Stay tuned for the next chapter, and the adventures that await the Munro sisters. Will Magua be good or evil? What surprises are in store? When will a certain band of sexy Mohicans enter the plot, and are they even Mohican in this story? Do I even know that yet? It remains to be seen, muahahaha!!! I promise I will try my damnedest not to make any of us wait as long as it took for this first chapter, myself included. Thank you for reading, and please try to comment (even just a short sentence!) so I know if I’m on the right track, because I always want to know what you think. It helps me be better at what I do!


	2. A Fateful Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the journey north, Cora and Alice find out more about their guide, and are rescued from a perilous situation by three strangers.

**Chapter 2**

Cora sat silently, feeling the gentle rock and thump of the train car over the tracks, her dark eyes watching the beauty of the Washington landscape rolling past the window from beneath the low brim of her dusty hat. She and Alice had packed their limited possessions and departed Cripple Creek with Magua the afternoon following the incident at The Patroon’s House, boarding a short line train north to Denver that picked up shipments from gold mining towns on the way.  Now their train was headed through Washington to Seattle. The three of them currently rode in the back of the sparsely populated lower-class passenger car, partly due to expense, but mostly because of the ethnicity of their guide. As an indigenous person, Magua was granted free passage on the railroad, as all tribes had been in exchange for their compliance in allowing the transcontinental railroads to be built without attacking or hindering the workers and camps. While passage was at no charge for him, he was limited to the least costly seating, and on some lines, the rooftop or flatbed cars. Since Cora and Alice would remain in his company for the duration of their trip, they traveled as he did. The sisters had wisely opted for men’s clothing for travel – for greater comfort, but also in order to keep a lower profile and avoid unnecessary attention or negative reaction from other passengers. Two young white men traveling alone with Magua would make less trouble for him than two white women. A few days’ worth of dust and travel grime helped even more to disguise their fair skin and pretty faces.

            The journey so far had been a quiet one. Magua seemed to only speak when it was required, and he was difficult to read. Though he was not particularly unkind, neither Cora or Alice could help feeling a little uneasy around him, with his flinty gaze and generally surly appearance, coupled with his general lack of sociability toward most people. Cora felt he was the type of man no one should ever want to cross; he looked capable of just about anything good or evil, and he carried a wicked-looking Bowie knife along with the well-used Winchester rifle. That was likely the reason he had been chosen to retrieve her and Alice in the first place – people tended to simply steer clear of him, and therefore them by association. It made for a bit of loneliness, though, feeling cut off from the world with only one another to speak to. Finally, the isolation seemed to get the better of Alice, and she turned to their stoic companion.

            “Magua, are you from Alaska Territory?” she asked curiously, her voice breaking the silence that surrounded them. Cora turned from the window to see Magua’s steely gaze settle on her sister, laced with a hint of mild surprise that she should wonder about him at all.

            “No. The people around Nome are Inupiaq. Eskimo. Those who are left, anyway.” There was a slight edge to his reply, which Cora did not miss.

            “Those who are left? Where have they gone?” Alice inquired.

            “Away, to other places. Like many of us. First Russian fur traders came there, now gold miners. More will come to find gold, and more of the Inupiaq will leave or be forced out. Just as my people have been, just as most people like me have been.”

            Alice’s face fell sadly, and Cora looked at Magua again, surprised at the lengthy reply he offered given his usual sullen quietude. Perhaps even he was growing bored and lonely on this journey.

            “Who are your people then, and how did you come to be in Nome?” Cora spoke up, her interest sparked as well.

            “My people are the _Niimíipuu_ , the Walking People, or the Nez Perce, as the white men have named us. We once lived from western Idaho to the great water of the Pacific. Until we were told our lands were no longer ours by the United States Army.”

            “And they made you move to a reservation,” Alice replied quietly. As the daughters of a former Army officer, both she and Cora knew something about the removal of Indians from lands the United States government wanted.

            “Yes,” Magua answered curtly. “To put it gently.”

            “What do you mean by that?” Cora pushed. All she and Alice had ever heard was from a white Army perspective, and she wanted to know what had really happened. Magua stared at her in hard silence, as if deciding whether or not to tell her what she wanted to know. He ceded at last, looking out the window as he spoke.

            “I mean that it was not so simple. We had a treaty, an agreement with the government to be able to keep some of our ancestral lands, and to still be able to hunt and fish even on government land there, and it did not matter in the end. It was taken from us anyway, and they wanted us to go to Idaho, to only a small piece of what was left to us of our home. The Army soldiers came after us when we did not want to leave, and we fought them several times. We went north to our Lakota allies for help, and still the soldiers followed us. I was a young man then, but I remember. They killed my father, and almost killed me too.”

            “And after the fighting was over?” Alice’s voice was heavy with dread.        

            “Some left alive escaped with Chief White Bird to the Lakota camp in Canada, where Sitting Bull had gone. Those of us who surrendered with Chief Joseph, the Army had told us we would be allowed to return to the reservation in Idaho, but they did not tell the truth once again. Instead General Sherman sent us to Fort Leavenworth in Kansas as prisoners, and many of us starved or died of sickness in the swamp lands there.”

            “How many?” Cora asked woodenly.

            “Over four hundred. Half of them died, and the rest who survived were allowed to return to Idaho seventeen years ago. Not Chief Joseph, though. They made him go to the Colville reservation, here in Washington.”

            “Where did you go?” Alice said softly.

            “I had no family left. They all died at Leavenworth, so I went to Colville for a time. Sometimes we were allowed to leave the reservation, and white men would hire us as guides because we knew the land. Then the gold miners wanted us because we could survive the travel and the cold. That is what I do now, because I don’t wish to go back to Colville. So I work for men like your father.”

            Men like their father, who were responsible for his plight in the first place, Cora thought to herself as she and Alice exchanged a woeful glance. Edmund Munro had served in the Union Army as a young Scottish immigrant during the Civil War, and afterward had been offered a promotion to Colonel and a post in Missouri, where guarding railroad construction and dealing with hostile bands of natives was his primary responsibility. After the Union Pacific Railroad had been finished, much of the Army stationed in the west had proceeded to move native tribes to dedicated reserves. Colonel Munro had married a gentle, fragile young woman in St. Louis, the only child of a banker. Cora and Alice had been born there, but they had spent most of their time with their mother in the city since their father had been away often, especially after their maternal grandparents had died and they’d had no family left. Mostly the sisters had been too young to know much of what their father actually did, they and had lacked enough information to really understand it until much later. Once his commission had ended, the Munros had gone to Colorado along with Malcolm and Franny McCann, where Cora and Alice’s mother had died of pneumonia the first winter they had lived there. Edmund Munro rarely spoke of his service now. Perhaps this was why. Did it bother him, haunt him? If it didn’t, Cora thought, then it should.

            “How you must hate us,” she whispered aloud.

            “Once, perhaps,” Magua replied, the passing landscape reflected in his blank, cold stare. “Once I might have hated you. Even wanted to kill you. But not now. Now, I do what I am paid to do, and I simply do not care. What has been done to my people can never be undone.”

            Alice opened her mouth to say something, but as she did, there was a deafening boom, an earsplitting screeching sound, and the train car tipped and rocked drunkenly. It went off the rails, stopped from rolling over by a massive pine tree trunk. The impact sent Alice flying into Cora, smashing her already bruised cheek against the car’s paneling. Ears ringing from the noise, Cora groaned and pushed unsteadily to her feet as Alice got up off of her rubbing a bruised shoulder. Other passengers were panicking, and they could hear voices shouting from outside.

            “What’s going on?” Alice grabbed Cora’s arm tightly, unable to disguise her fright.

            Magua got to his feet, a trail of blood trickling from his nose, and threw the rear door of the car open, jumping down to the ground below with the Winchester in hand. A moment later, he pulled himself back up into the doorway.

            “Somebody blew up the track ahead with dynamite,” he said grimly.

            “What?” Alice cried. Why?!”

            “The gold,” Cora replied, realization dawning on her. “This train is carrying gold from Colorado, and it’s being robbed.” Gunshots erupted outside, amid screams.

            “Come, we must get away from here. They’ll kill anyone they can who isn’t already dead.” Magua motioned for them to follow him, and they jumped down from the train car. Pandemonium had descended on the train’s burning wreckage. Living crew and passengers either ran for the surrounding trees or hid among the remaining cars, while a gang of men on horseback, faces covered, had come streaming out of the forest to reap the spoils of their crime, rifles and revolvers blazing. Dead and wounded people littered the ground around the track, either killed by the explosion or the flying bullets. The robbers seemed to be everywhere at once, and escape seemed impossible. Alice gasped in horror as a man trying to run into the woods nearby was gunned down, a bullet hitting his back and exploding through his chest in a spray of bright crimson. Magua ordered them to get down, and Cora lay half on top of Alice as she tried to shield her younger sister from the carnage.

            “Run, _NOW!_ ” Magua hissed.

            “We can’t leave you!” Alice pleaded. “Not after - ” Cora yanked her back down as a bullet whizzed past.

            “You run, or you die here,” he said flatly as he lifted the Winchester to his shoulder to aim at one of the robbers. He fired at the same time as his opponent, and when the gun smoke cleared he was gone, the other man lying lifeless where he had fallen to the earth.

            “Where did he go?” Alice whispered frantically, then spotted him running into the forest as some of the men went after him, pistols drawn. “Oh God, what is he doing?”

            “He’s giving us a chance,” Cora replied, incredulous. “We have to run, and now.” She grabbed Alice’s arm and dragged her to her feet, and they took off toward the cover of the pine trees. Alice hesitated, still trying to locate Magua, and Cora grasped at her sister once more, growing desperate to move her as three of the gang spotted them. They wheeled their horses around, bearing down on them faster than either woman could possibly run, even without the hindrance of women’s clothing. _Surely we’ll die now,_ Cora thought, her chest burning with panic and the effort of running up an embankment covered in dry pine needles, the thundering hooves and shouting voices of their attackers growing ever closer. 

            Suddenly, the world seemed to explode around them in a volley of gunfire. One of the robbers’ horses reared and the rider was thrown to the ground, clutching his throat where a bullet had met its fatal target. Cora and Alice dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way to dodge another set of hooves, and a second and third behind them. The three men riding them weren’t the ones chasing them, Cora realized. Were they part of the gang? Who else would they be? Alice gasped beside her as she watched one of the newcomers leap off his paint horse with a shrill battle-cry, long, raven-black hair streaming behind him beneath the dark hat he wore with a plum-colored shirt and buckskin pants. He landed on one of the robbers, pulling him off his horse and onto the ground, disarming him and dispatching his life with a knife before he even knew what hit him. Another man - an older, more weathered version of the first with some kind of tattoo across his forehead - took off after another gang member, hurling a wicked-looking weapon that resembled a rifle stock but had sharp spikes poking from the corners. The criminal fell from his mount, crashing to the underbrush with a thud. The last of their pursuers aimed his rifle for the older man.

            Everything in Cora’s field of vision seemed to slow to a crawl as the third set of horse’s hooves landed and slid to a halt not even two feet from her, spraying damp soil across her cheek. Sleek black hock and cannon gave way to the deep mahogany coat of a bay stallion. In one smooth motion, its rider reached over the shoulder of his tan shirt to draw forth a flintlock longrifle strapped across his back, an antiquity compared to the weapons of his opponents and those of his two comrades. The figured walnut of the silver-inlaid stock gleamed as he brought it gracefully to his shoulder and took aim. Cora could see little of his face beneath the brim of his well-worn brown Stetson, only a strong jawline and chin, his firm mouth set in a grim line of concentration. His skin was lighter than the other two men, his hair very dark but not black like theirs, and it hung in unruly waves down his back, something colorful woven into a small braid at the right side like the others also had. Everything slammed back into real time as he pulled the longrifle’s trigger, the last of the attackers falling lifeless to the earth. He lowered the rifle slightly, warily looking around to see if anyone was left to fight, but there was no one.

            The silence that followed the chaos was strikingly surreal, and Cora felt lost for a moment, wondering how many passengers and crew had escaped and how many lay dead between the railroad tracks and the edge of the forest. She and Alice scrambled to their feet as the three men began to pick weapons and ammunition off the dead men. The older man headed away from them once he was done, after muttering something to the two younger ones in a strange language. As he turned his back, Cora studied the woven vest he wore over his dark blue shirt, figured with an ornate, colorful pattern that surrounded a large, stylized bird. The man with the longrifle replied to him in the same tongue and then glanced up at Cora suddenly, the sun filtering through the pine trees slanting across his face and finally affording her a good look at his tanned features. He was young, probably in his late twenties, with prominent cheekbones and an aquiline nose. Fine lines and dark lashes framed clear, aqua-green eyes beneath thick, dark brows. His shirt sleeves were rolled up over strong sun-browned forearms, the dark lines tattooed lengthwise on them meeting at points along another set of lines and dots that encircled his wrists.

            “You’d best find yourselves a weapon, boys,” he said, the commanding timbre of his voice switching to English. He rose to his full height, tall and lean, the imposing length of his antiquated firearm gripped in one hand as he dropped his more time-appropriate .45 Colt revolver into the leather holster hanging at the hip of his dark Levis. Stunned, Cora nodded, numbly removing a .45 similar to his and a bandelier full of bullets from a body nearby. She didn’t dare speak yet, as she wasn’t sure she wanted the strangers to know that she and Alice were female. Clearly their clothes and their dirt and soot-smeared faces kept them adequately disguised, and it as best to remain so until they knew if they could trust these men not to harm them.

            “Here, take this,” offered the young native man, the rich baritone of his voice catching Alice’s attention as he handed her a gun belt from one of the dead men containing a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver and bullets. Mesmerized, she strapped it on in silence, watching the shadows across the finely sculpted features of his coppery-skinned face, a shirt sleeve sliding back to reveal tattoos like the other man had. A few of the now riderless horses wheeled around and took off down the railway, and Alice started after them in a sudden panic.

            “ _NO! WAIT!_ ” she cried, her voice echoing in the treetops. Within three steps the young Indian man caught up to her, grabbing her by one arm. She turned on him, pushing at him as his long fingers wrapped around her other arm, her hands thumping at the strong wall of his chest, fighting his hold. “Let me go!” She yelled indignantly. “What are you doing?! We need those horses to get out of here!” She shoved at him again, absently taking note of the dark geometric design tattooed on his chest where the collar of his shirt lay open. His dark, expressive eyes shimmered like polished jet, annoyed at first until surprise flitted across them.

            Uncas stared down in disbelief at the boy, who it would seem was not a skinny boy at all, but a young woman dressed in men’s clothes. From further away it was impossible to tell, but this close there was no denying it. He could feel her thin, graceful arms though the sleeves of her gray linen shirt, and a few stray locks of long, honey-colored hair had escaped from beneath her hat. If that had not made it obvious to him, the big, long-lashed hazel eyes and full mouth would have given her away, even through the dirt on her face. He let her go, staggering back a little.

            “You’re a woman,” he stated.

            “Of course I am!” she shouted. “And I’ll be a stranded one with no horse, thanks to you! Why did you stop me?”

            “Sssshhhh!” Uncas hissed, annoyed again. “You can’t yell like that, you’ll be heard for miles, and any of those men left will be right back here to kill you! And in case you didn’t notice, my father has the horse issue taken care of.” He gestured behind her, where the older of the men was approaching with two abandoned horses in tow by their bridles. All the bluster went out of her, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable and drawn into herself. Her lashes lowered and her cheeks flushed, making a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth until he realized she almost seemed afraid of him now.

            “Sorry,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact and turning away from him. He stared after her as she headed back toward her companion, perplexed at how she’d gone from one extreme to the other in a matter of seconds.

            Nathaniel watched the brief exchange from where he stood, then turned his gaze to the dark-haired one, who started toward them with alarm when Uncas grabbed ahold of the light-haired boy to stop him from running after the horses.

            “Don’t interfere, kid, he won’t hurt him.” Nathaniel spoke up, catching up to the dark-haired boy and stopping him short by grasping the back of his faded red shirt. He jerked out of Nathaniel’s grip and whirled to face him, his low-brimmed hat coming off in the process. A mass of long, dark brown waves tumbled from beneath the hat, and large brown eyes flashed furiously at him as he reeled from the sudden revelation that this was not a boy, but a young woman, and an angry one at that.

            “Do _NOT_ put your hands on me!” she growled in a slightly husky, British-accented voice. She knocked his hand aside with her forearm and backed away a few steps, clapping her hat back on - but not before Nathaniel got a good look at her pretty face beneath the dirt smears, and the nasty days-old bruise beneath her right eye that extended onto one high cheekbone. Beneath her anger there was mistrust, and a little fear too. No wonder, given what had just happened, but it seemed to run a little deeper than that, and he was inexplicably curious as to why.

            “Calm down, Miss. I ain’t gonna hurt you either,” his voice softened, and he wondered about how she’d ended up here alone. Especially when he heard her call her approaching companion “Alice”, and realized by the dumbfounded expression on Uncas’ face that his brother had just come to the same conclusion about these two not being boys. His father Chingachgook approached leading two horses as he and Uncas introduced themselves and then him, his calm demeanor not changing a bit with the realization that they had come to the aid of two females when they gave them their names, Cora and Alice Munro. He simply nodded and waited for one of them to answer Nathaniel when he asked where they had come from and where they had been headed on the train.

            “We came from Cripple Creek, Colorado, on our way to Seattle,” Cora, the dark-haired one, answered hesitantly. “We were to meet our father’s mining engineer there and then take a steamship north to Nome to meet our father.”

            Chingachgook grunted and he, Nathaniel and Uncas met eyes, guessing their father must be a gold prospector, as they knew firsthand how many were starting to invade the banks of the Snake River coming from the lower states, and back through Chilkoot Pass from the Klondike, looking for the success they hadn’t achieved there.

            “Awful long way to travel by yourselves,” Uncas remarked. “That why you’re dressed like that?”

            “We weren’t by ourselves,” the one called Alice said, pausing for half a second before raising her chin a little and adding, “But… we could have done it alone. Cora and I are used to doing things on our own.”

            “We have a guide, sent to travel with us,” Cora added, “a Nez Perce man by the name of Magua. He disappeared during… all this.” She waved her hand at the smoking wreckage of the train. “I suppose we’ll have to locate him, and another horse, before we can move on.” Her voice betrayed more distress over this than her body let show, and she felt deflated all of a sudden, realizing she really had no clue what she and Alice were going to do now. Alice stepped close to her and took her hand as they listened to a clipped exchange between the three men in whatever native language they were speaking. The father, Chingachgook, replied to what seemed like an earnest question from the one called Uncas, and the man named Nathaniel Poe interrupted him to say something else. Chingachgook agreed to whatever he had said with a nod and a curt response, and Nathaniel turned to them.

            “We can take you as far as you’re going. We were headed that way ourselves.”

            “To Nome, Alaska?” Alice questioned incredulously, her wide eyes still locked on Uncas. “You can’t be serious.”

            “We live there, at least most of the time,” Uncas replied. “Come down here part of the year to trap furs, take them to Seattle to sell before we go back home for the summer.” He jutted his chin toward where their horses stood, each loaded with a bundle of what likely contained said furs.

            “Either way, there’s no time to waste,” Nathaniel said, starting for the horses and motioning them to follow. If you’ve got belongings on that train you’d best find them. We’re getting out of here fast.”

            “We can’t leave yet!” Cora protested. “I told you, we have a guide -”

            “You _had_ a guide,” Nathaniel interjected firmly. “He’s long gone now, and there’s no telling if he’s dead or alive, or when the men who went after him will come back here looking to get rid of survivors and claim what they set out to steal. If you’d rather wait around for that, be my guest.” He kept walking, his brother and father at his side.

            Alice’s jaw dropped slightly, and Cora bristled with defensive anger, following Nathaniel with purpose.

            “Magua came thousands of miles, _alone_ , to take us to our father, and he distracted those men to give us a chance to survive!” she bit out. “We can hardly leave him behind without at least _trying_ to find him, and if he is dead we ought to at least see to him. And what about the rest of the dead here?”

            “We can’t risk the time. Get your things and let us go, Miss.” Nathaniel replied without even turning to look at her, which infuriated Cora even more. How dare he dismiss her, dismiss Magua and all these poor dead people as if they meant nothing?

            “Perhaps you can be indifferent to this, and to Magua’s fate, because he is a stranger and you know nothing of what he has already endured in his life, but Alice and I cannot be, and we _will_ not!”

            She stopped short when he turned and stalked back toward her, his green eyes flashing with anger and offense. Her heart rose to her throat as he approached, and as badly as she wanted to stand her ground, she retreated a few steps. He stopped inches from her, and she hated herself and her instinctive fear for a brief moment when she flinched, half expecting him to hit her. He noticed, to her humiliation, and the hard line of his mouth softened a bit, confusion behind the glittering fury in his eyes.

            “Look, lady, I don’t know your guide, but I can assure you that my family, and our people, are no strangers to what men like him have endured. In case you hadn’t realized it, the Nez Perce weren’t the only people affected by the notion of Manifest Destiny the United States and its inhabitants are so damned keen on,” he seethed. “Now your Magua ain’t a greenhorn. If he’s out there, I have no doubt he’ll find his own way, and if he ran to give you and your sister a chance to escape, you’d best take it and not insult his effort. As for the rest of these people, God rest them, they will stay as they lay, unless you want the rest of these bastards coming after us when they realize somebody lived. That clear things up any?”

            Cora stood for a moment, appalled and shaken, a tremor in her jaw as Alice stepped up beside her and took her arm. Nathaniel turned and walked away, and Cora watched him. For a moment she had begun to hate him for what seemed like cruel indifference, but now after his eye-opening outburst, she didn’t know how to feel except to know in her gut that he was right. She and Alice couldn’t stay here, it would be their death warrant if they did. They had no choice but to put themselves at the mercy of these men and hope it was the better option. After all, it wasn’t as if            they weren’t used to having no real choices of their own by now. She sighed shakily and went with Alice to retrieve their meager belongings, both women tying their canvas bags behind the saddles of the horses Chingachgook handed off to them with a nod.

            They mounted in silence, Alice looking nervously at Cora and casting furtive glances at their rescuers, as unsure as Cora was about what to think of all this. Both wondered if they would be sorely misplacing their trust with these men who had come out of nowhere like wild, avenging angels, when everything had gone to hell in a handbasket so quickly in the moments before. Cora kept her horse close to Alice’s, staying far enough behind that she didn’t have to look at Nathaniel Poe’s face or meet his penetrating gaze. She rested her hand lightly on the revolver at her hip, taking a deep breath around the crush of her apprehension and letting the feel of the cold steel remind her that she wasn’t completely helpless. She and Alice would make it through this, just like they had made it through everything else.

* * *

 

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:**

            I’m amazed I met my timeline for this chapter, and I hope it’s worth your anticipation! I had trouble getting it started, because Magua, of all people, was really digging his heels in for a while. He didn’t really like what I had originally planned to do with him, but he also wasn’t telling me how he wanted me to write him in this AU. I had some loose ideas, but they were nebulous, until one day I was mopping the kitchen floor and he finally started talking to me, and then Nez Perce War survivor Magua was born. With the absence of the Camerons in this story, Alice and Cora (especially Cora), needed a source of a reality check about what was happening to indigenous people during the 19thcentury, and a source of sympathy and perhaps conflict later down the road. While Magua is traditionally the “bad guy” in Last of the Mohicans, the bitterness of his character over what was done to him and his village by English soldiers is not unfounded, and that part of his character seemed to want to speak in this story.

            When putting these characters into different time periods, I try to place them in a position they might actually be in, both personally and culturally – and history shouldn’t be sugarcoated. By 1899, most indigenous tribes had been removed from ancestral lands to reservations, and there were not a great many of them fighting renegade anymore, so Magua being a major antagonist/villain didn’t seem fitting for this setting (but will he surprise us later? No telling). He is still strong and proud, but he is also a product of Manifest Destiny and the aggressive western settlement that came with the completion of the transcontinental railroads in North America after the Civil War. His story is a digest version of what actually happened to the Nez Perce people, and like all accounts of indigenous removal, it was tragic, inhumane, and unfair.

            My other hang-up with this chapter was coming up with a good scenario for an attack that would result in Cora and Alice being rescued by Chingachgook, Nathaniel, and Uncas. At first this was all going to be orchestrated by Magua, and I just couldn’t get it to work and make sense until I figured out that Magua wanted nothing to do with it. At this time in history it wouldn’t have made sense to have the girls making a journey of several thousand miles on horseback, when the railroad system was so active, so enter Ye Olde West cliché train robbery scenario, with a twist of Mohican flair (or are they Mohican? We haven’t found out yet, have we? Soon, my faithful readers). The women having sympathy for Magua also worked out in favor of Cora getting into it with Nathaniel, so I felt like I had something that worked, and I hope I was right!

            As for music, I’m still being heavily inspired by instrumental bluegrass tunes. The opening of the chapter had a little of Tim O’Brien’s “Gypsy Camp/Art Stamper” – mostly the slow beginning. When Magua is sharing his story with Alice and Cora, I could hear an extended version of Andrea Zonn’s 36-second tune “Interlude” from the multi-artist album _Appalachian Picking Society_. After the train is attacked comes another “Interlude” from the same album, this one by David Schnaufer. Its ominous sound is perfect for this scene and the silence after the rescue is over and Cora and Alice are processing things. “Shady Grove” by Bryan Sutton has the same tune woven into it, and that song is companion to “Interlude” in that whole scene after Cora and Nathaniel argue, and they all get on their horses and leave the train wreck behind with Cora and Alice thinking hard about their current situation.

            That’s all for chapter 2, folks! I’ll get Chapter 3 going as soon as I’m able between work and life. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1, it is so wonderful to read every single one of your thoughts, no matter how big or small. You guys keep my little fanfiction world going ‘round. Stay tuned!

           


	3. Chapter 3 - Night Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group of travelers stops for the night, and there are some conversations, revelations, and surprises to be had.

**Chapter 3**

         Nathaniel rode alongside Uncas at the back of their group as the day waned, Chingachgook in the lead and the Munro sisters in the middle. The women had started out at the rear, but Nathaniel felt more comfortable with Uncas and himself positioned there, in case they ran into trouble. If he was being honest, he also felt more comfortable being where he couldn’t feel Cora Munro’s intense, dark eyes boring holes into his back. He studied her from beneath the brim of his hat, her spine ramrod straight, her hips moving gently with the stride of the sorrel mare she rode. Neither she or her sister had spoken a word all afternoon. Alice had been stiff at first like Cora, but as the day had worn on she began to relax more, taking in the forest around them, and later beginning to wilt a bit as she grew more travel-weary. He noticed Uncas watching her closely more than once, but he never approached her, hadn’t said a word to her since their run-in at the railroad tracks. Cora, on the other hand, didn’t ever seem to relax. She watched their surroundings too, but even though her features no longer displayed anger or fear she still seemed hyper-aware of every sound, every breath, every snap of a twig, and her right hand kept gravitating toward the revolver at her hip. Nathaniel wondered again about what circumstances had led to the Munro sisters being on that train. There was damn sure more to the story than they had disclosed, he knew that much at least.

            “Think she’ll turn around if you stare hard enough?” Uncas said under his breath in their father’s language, his mouth turning up in a teasing smile. Nathaniel’s eyes shifted sideways to his brother, and he snuffed softly.

            “As if you can talk,” he replied, gesturing pointedly at Alice. Uncas opened his mouth to answer back, but Chingachgook’s voice cut him off.

            “We will stop for the night soon,” he said in English so Cora and Alice could understand him. Both women looked relieved at the prospect of rest; it had been a long and stressful day to say the least.

            They stopped in a glade near a small stream and made camp. The sisters watched curiously as Chingachgook and his sons fished for trout in the stream with lines and hooks and a small net, catching enough for a good supper when added to canned items from their supplies. Cora went to the stream bank and offered to help Nathaniel clean the fish, and Alice watched him hand her a knife from beneath her lashes as she assisted Uncas with arranging dry wood for a fire to cook them. She had caught Nathaniel gazing at her older sister curiously more than once during the course of their travels today, and she didn’t know what to think of him yet. Any of them, really. They were quiet men, talking to one another here and there in the native tongue they spoke, but never really offering forth any other conversation except to tell them early on that it would take another full day to reach Seattle as long as they broke camp by sunrise. Alice felt exhausted to her very bones and thought that surely Cora must as well, after having their travel plans so violently interrupted and then followed by the stress of being forced to accept help from strangers. There was a lethal grace to all three of their rescuers that was as fascinating as it was frightening. Even so, she felt that they were likely not dangerous men, at least not to those who didn’t deserve their wrath, but neither did she have a clue how to relate to them.

            “He won’t bite her, you know.” Uncas’ soft, deep voice resonated close by, startling her. She turned to him. He had removed his hat, and his blue-black hair was pulled halfway back, the remainder streaming down his back nearly to his waist. One corner of his finely sculpted mouth lifted in a little half-smile. Alice flushed, pulling her gaze back to his eyes, almost as dark as his hair in the dimming daylight.

            “I wasn’t… that is, I…” She sighed. Why did he unnerve her so?

            “It’s all right, you have every right to be wary of strangers,” Uncas reassured her, feeling a little bad for teasing her when he saw mild distress creep into her eyes. He had only meant to try to lighten things a little, after the rough day and the rocky start of their initial meeting. “I only mean that he won’t hurt her, Miss,” he explained. “We mean you and your sister no harm, I hope you know that.”

            “Yes, I… Thank you.” She nodded and offered a wan smile. “We are grateful for your help, truly, it’s just…” Her shoulders shrugged, her eyes a little sad.

            “I understand, Miss. I’m, uh… I’m sorry about earlier. With the horses. I didn’t mean to be so rough with you, I just didn’t want - ”

            “I understand, too, Mr., ah…”

            “Just Uncas.”

            “Uncas,” she repeated, and he liked the way his name sounded when she said it. “You were only trying to protect us. There is nothing to forgive.” She offered a shy hint of a smile before getting up and brushing her hands off on her pants, leaving him to get the fire started.

            A little distance away, Cora rinsed the blade of the knife Nathaniel had given her in the stream, then reached for the last trout to clean. She glanced over at him, watching the way he quickly, methodically worked with his own knife, then spread each prepared fish open to mount on a sharpened stick so they could be cooked over the fire. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, his forearms strong and sinewy and his hands dexterous with long, slim fingers. She eyed the tattoos on his arms and wrists, the skin browned by the sun but nowhere near the deep coppery color of the men he had referred to as his father and brother, and she wondered again about the dynamics of that relationship. Nathaniel paused and caught her watching him, his eyes the blue-green color of bottle glass beneath his dark lashes. Her breath hitched, and she hoped her nerves didn’t show on her face. Sighing a little, she went back to work and set her knife down when she was done washing it off in the water.

            Nathaniel got up to take the fish over to where Uncas had started a cooking fire, and Cora watched him go, bewildered. Heat suffused her cheeks as she thought again about their slight altercation earlier, and how quickly he had shut down her tirade with the true intent and consideration behind his actions. She had wanted to offer some apology several times while they had worked together just now, but she hadn’t found the right opportunity. He had made no mention of it either, and they had not spoken at all except for him to carefully explain how to help him prepare the trout, which confused her even more; one moment he could be deadly, and the next utterly temperate and patient. There was something magnetic about his contradictory nature and part of her wanted to know more, but she reminded herself quickly that he and his family were merely a means to an end for her and Alice, and her curiosity was out of place. Alice joined her a moment later, her silent gaze landing on Uncas and Nathaniel briefly before she and Cora knelt by the stream to wash their hands and faces.

* * *

 

             It was late, and night had settled on the forest, the clear sky like a dark cloak glinting with starlight above. Though she was exhausted, Cora found she could not sleep, so she lay awake listening to the sounds around her; the lulling rush of the stream, faint rustling in the underbrush from insects and small animals, and the occasional whisper between Chingachgook and Uncas, who sat sentinel near where Alice had fallen asleep beneath a wool blanket, overtaken by weariness. Nathaniel lay low on his belly behind an embankment on the opposite side of their little glade, poised and vigilant in the moonlight with his longrifle at the ready. Eventually Chingachgook went to lie down and Uncas continued to keep watch, giving Cora an odd sense of security where Alice was concerned. She turned her attention back to Nathaniel, his shadowy profile backlit so that she could see when he glanced her way now and then. Eventually boredom and restlessness got the better of her, and she quietly got up and made her way over to sit beside him. He watched her silently as she lowered herself to the ground, shifting his weight to one side.

            “I’m sorry about earlier,” she began hesitantly. “At the railroad, I mean. You were acting for our benefit, and I apologize. I… misunderstood you.”

            “Well, that’s to be expected from people like you,” he said matter-of-factly. “My father always said - ”

            “People like us? What is that supposed to mean?” Cora questioned hotly.

            “White society types who don’t know anything about our people. My father always said ‘ _Do not try to understand them, and do not try to make them understand you. They are a breed apart and make no sense’_.”

            “ _What?_ ” She knew he did not speak to offend, merely to state, but Cora felt affronted anyway, and sniffed. “That is a most unfair assessment, Mr. Poe.”

            “Is that right?” He raised an eyebrow.

            “Yes, it is. For one thing, I cannot help that I was never before _made_ to understand, and for another, you don’t know enough about me or Alice to say anything about us. I can assure you, the last several years hardly put my sister and I in the category of ‘society types’.”

            Her expressive brown eyes flashed with indignance, but Nathaniel could see that he’d hurt her a little too. He began to regret what he’d said, wondering at the same time why he even cared if she had a poor opinion of him, but for some reason he did. She looked away, her face illuminated by the moonlight. Now that she’d washed up and removed her hat and her thick, dark hair was pulled back away from it, the dark bruise on her cheek stood out prominently. The sight of it drove home the truth she spoke – that kind of thing didn’t come from a genteel life, or at least not a safe one.

            “Well then, in your case, Miss, I’d make an exception.”

             “Thank you _so_ much.” Cora pressed her lips together, and they sat in silence for a while until she spoke again, her tone more amicable now. “Perhaps if we are to understand each other, neither of us should be so quick to judge.”

            “Right again.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’m supposing I owe _you_ an apology now.”

            “Accepted.” Cora relaxed a little after a moment, leaning on one arm and looking over at Nathaniel curiously. “Is Chingachgook really your father?”

            “I wasn’t born to him, if that’s what you mean, but in every other way, he is.”

            “Where is your real family?”

            “Buried somewhere in Canada. My Ma, Pa, and sisters. Chingachgook found me with two French trappers when he was traveling west, so he took me and raised me up as his own.”

            “I’m sorry,” Cora whispered.

            “I don’t remember them, I wasn’t more than one or two. This is the only family I’ve ever known – I wasn’t raised as a proper white man, though I’ve spent enough time around white folks to fit in some if I need to.”

            “You said your father traveled west. Where did he come from?”

            “Wisconsin Territory. His people are Stockbridge-Munsee, descended from Mohican and Delaware folks around New York. But they left there well over a hundred years ago now. No place for them except to move west, and even that changed once the Revolution ended and more settlers came. My father left there to trap furs across Canada after my grandfather died. He’s Turtle Clan, and the last of his family line – leastways he was, until Uncas came along.”

            Cora nodded thoughtfully. “You must have an adoptive mother as well, then, since you have a brother. Is she also Munsee?”

            “No.” Nathaniel smiled in fond memory. “She was Haida, of the Raven Clan. Her people were from southern Alaska Territory, and what’s now British Columbia. That’s where my father ended up, and where we all lived until she left this world. She died of smallpox when I was about seven. Her I do remember pretty well.”

            “Then I am twice as sorry for that loss,” Cora replied softly. “Alice and I lost our mother too, the winter after my father left the Army and moved us from Missouri to Colorado to mine gold. We have felt her absence deeply ever since, especially when our father left for Yukon Territory. Nothing has ever been the same.” She sighed sadly and looked up at the stars, thick and luminous across the velvet sky, and Nathaniel followed suit, his voice low and lulling as he spoke to her.

            “My father’s people say that when the Sun and Moon were born, their mother, Sky Woman, died. So the Sun gave her body to the earth to bring forth all living things, and the Moon took the stars from her breast and scattered them across the sky to remind him of her soul.” He leaned back and nodded toward the heavens. “So there’s the monument for my mother and yours. And my birth family, too, I guess.”

            Cora smiled just a little then, her face still tilted upward, and closed her eyes. “I think I won’t ever forget that story now. How lovely to think of such a loss in that way.”

            Nathaniel’s gaze traveled over her, and he wondered how he’d ever thought she was a boy. Even with the men’s clothes, the grime of travel and one hell of a rough day, she was awfully pretty with the moonlight slanting across her features. She turned her face toward him again, and his curiosity about her bruise won out at last.

            “Where did you come from?” he inquired gently.

            “I told you, we came from Cripple Creek, Colorado.”

            “Well now, I know that, but I meant where were you and your sister living, if your Ma’s gone and your Pa’s up in Nome?” He was worried he’d lost her for a moment when she ducked her head a little and looked away in what seemed like shame of some sort, so he was surprised when she actually answered him after a charged silence.

            “We were staying with the widow of my father’s former mining partner. She owns a… full service saloon, to put it respectfully. Alice and I helped with housekeeping and serving in exchange for room and board.”

            Nathaniel was struck silent by a wave of emotion he couldn’t quite identify. He and his family didn’t patronize the women who worked in the saloons they rarely visited south of Alaska, but he also wasn’t born yesterday. He could only imagine what Cora and Alice must have seen living in that environment, and what might have happened to them in their time there. He frowned, and forgetting himself for a moment, reached out and touched Cora’s jaw, turning her face enough for a better view of the contusion on her cheek. Her breathing shallowed, her skin soft beneath his fingertips as they moved from her jaw to the edge of the blemished area. She flinched, and he pulled his hand back quickly, knowing he had no right to touch her or to ask any of these questions, yet he was compelled to ask further based on her reaction.

            “Is that where that happened?” The inquiry left his mouth in a near-growl, and Cora held her breath, her eyes wide and uncertain, her heart racing in her chest. He looked… ominous, if she had to put a name to it, and while she ought to be afraid of this stranger touching her, all she could think about was his hand on her jaw, so gentle in contrast to the expression on his face. But it wasn’t anger at her, it was anger on her behalf, and that was different than what she was used to. There was no reason she ought to trust Nathaniel Poe or tell him anything about herself, yet something about him made her want to answer him truthfully, and she didn’t understand it.

            “Yes,” she admitted on an exhale. “The night before we left, a drunk customer went after Alice.” The entire story spilled out of her, the first time she had allowed herself to think of it or talk about it since that night. Nathaniel listened, her words concise but her eyes speaking clearly to him of her fear for Alice, then for herself, and what might have happened if Magua had not arrived when he did. It was no wonder the sisters had been so adamant about not leaving the scout behind, and he felt a pang of guilt that he’d had to insist on doing so for their own safety. When Cora had finished, he raised his brows in astonishment.

            “So you broke a bourbon bottle over his head, and he belted you.”

            “I did. But it got him away from Alice.”

            “Bastard deserved worse,” he grunted, shaking his head. “Well, I guess I ought to be more careful not to insult you in the future, and thankful there aren’t any empty bottles around tonight.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile, earning him a small one back from Cora, and a short, breathy laugh along with it. The humor passed into nervous quietude as he regarded her with hooded eyes, the starry sky reflected back at him in her dark, wary gaze.

             Before either of them could draw another breath, Nathaniel heard the almost imperceptible sound of something moving toward their camp from the trees nearby. Adrenaline spiking through his body, he flattened himself to the ground behind the embankment, his thumb pulling back the longrifle’s lock as his eyes scanned the tree line. Wordlessly, Cora got down beside him, her arm brushing along his as she drew her revolver and cocked the hammer, and Nathaniel afforded her a brief glance and a nod. Whatever or whoever was out there was careful and quiet, but Nathaniel’s well-trained ears and eyes could discern the motion, and without even looking he knew that Uncas had also heard it and was on the move. Chingachgook was up as well, rifle at the ready, his form near invisible pressed along the trunk of a massive pine.

            Across from where Nathaniel and Cora lay, Uncas snapped to attention when he heard the faint, foreign sounds nearby. He had been watching over Alice as she slept somewhat fitfully a few feet away, but he couldn’t risk leaving her that way now; he needed her awake and ready to move in case there was an attack. He belly-crawled over beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder to rouse her with a whisper.

            “Wake up, Miss Munro. Someone’s coming.” He quickly realized his mistake when Alice’s eyes flew open with a startled gasp, and he saw the disoriented look on her face. She rolled onto her stomach and tried desperately to crawl away, dry pine needles and leaves flying from beneath her. Before she could attract any more attention, he pulled her halfway beneath him, pressing her to the ground so she couldn’t move, and slid a hand over her mouth to quiet her heavy breathing.

            Alice still existed halfway between reality and the fog of her nightmare, her brain screaming with alarm bells when the strange man came after her and pinned her down, her heart pounding like a trapped animal. When his hand covered her mouth, her state of confusion immediately transferred her back to the dark saloon hallway, pinned and helpless with a man’s hand stifling her cries for help. The smell of cheap bourbon permeated the stale air as his rough voice muttered disgusting things in her ear, his other hand squeezing her body and yanking at her clothes. Fury rose in hot in her throat along with the acid taste of bile, and she began to fight back savagely. She bit down hard on the man’s hand, simultaneously throwing one elbow back into his solar plexus, satisfied when she heard a pained grunt and he pulled back enough to allow her to escape - mostly. Her feet were still tangled in his long legs, so she jammed one booted foot hard into his shin, causing him to curse aloud quietly.

            “Ow! Shit!” he hissed, grabbing hold of her arm before she could throw a wild punch. “Miss Munro! Miss Alice, please stop, it’s me, Uncas!”

            She reared back and stilled, getting a good look at him in the darkness. Her mouth fell open, her pretty gold eyes wide and full of horror. Uncas wondered just what the hell had happened to make her react so violently. He had certainly not meant to scare her so bad.

            “Oh heavens, I’m so sorry!” she gasped, scrambling back toward him. “I thought you were - ”

            “Sssshh!” Chingachgook admonished quietly behind them. “No time. There’s someone out there, get down!” Alice immediately dropped beside Uncas, but it was too late; the struggle had already drawn unwanted attention.

            Suddenly a man rushed out from the trees and leapt up over the embankment in front of them, landing on Uncas, a knife flashing in the moonlight. All hell broke loose at that point, and Uncas grappled viciously with his attacker, moving away from Alice. Cora dashed over and pulled her out of the fray, both women drawing pistols. Chingachgook and Nathaniel both raised guns as well, but the fighting men moved swiftly, and neither father or son wanted to risk hitting Uncas. In a brief second where he had a clear shot, Nathaniel moved closer and fired his .45 Colt, but the bullet missed its moving target. The man stopped for just a moment, giving them a partial view of his face before springing for the trees once more. Chingachgook went after him, and before they could get far Nathaniel raised the deadly longrifle to his shoulder and took aim.

            “Mr. Poe, no!” Cora shouted, her hand wrapping around his elbow and jerking the rifle off course just as he squeezed the trigger. The powder in the priming pan exploded with a flash in the darkness and the lead ball burst from the muzzle with another flash, illuminating Alice’s figure running after Chingachgook for a split second. Uncas tackled her, Nathaniel’s wayward shot missing her and hitting a nearby tree trunk. Not knowing what else to do, Cora raised her pistol and fired it into the air, causing everyone to go still and stare, even Chingachgook and his target.

            “ _All of you, STOP_ ,” she commanded, her hand shaking as she holstered her .45. “Mr. Chingachgook, please do not kill that man. Mr. Poe, that goes for you as well.”

            “Why the hell not?” Nathaniel demanded, cranky at her interference and utterly dumbfounded by her request. “He tried to kill my brother!”

            “I suspect he was only trying to help me, he must have thought I was being attacked.” Alice groaned, getting to her feet once Uncas let go of her. “I’m afraid this is all my fault.” The brothers looked at each other in complete confusion, Uncas pressing one hand to his left side with his hunting knife clutched in a death-grip in the other. Chingachgook lowered his rifle but kept his war club poised as he looked at his buckskin-clad opponent, who still held a large Bowie knife.

            “Are you all right, Miss Alice?” the man asked gruffly, eyeing Chingachgook and his sons dubiously.

            “I am,” Alice replied sheepishly.

            Cora stepped forward and positioned herself beside her sister. “Please stand down, Magua, these men mean us no harm.”

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**

            I thought this chapter would never get written, and I do apologize for the long wait, though I feel like I’ll be apologizing to my readers frequently if writing continues this way (and it likely will)! Life is no joke between work and everything else, and writing sadly does not get the time slot it once did when I was jobless and in school. That being said, I’m happy with life, so I’m all right with being a little slower on the story front so I can deliver something that people hopefully like and want to read. Now that it’s getting colder, I’ll be more apt to have bad weather on my days off that will keep me home writing and off the beloved Honda Shadow, heehee. I must say, I am a motorcycling addict through and through. :D

            This chapter, clearly, is a different take on a well-known scene in the LOTM film, though it does have its Crazy Faith twist. I thought it stood to reason that Uncas and Alice would have had some interaction during time gaps in the movie, so I gave them some here. And of course, there’s the ubiquitous stargazing scene with Cora and Nathaniel – which was more true to the film timing here than any other story I’ve put it in. Arranging dialogue to accommodate the plot differences in this story is fun but also challenging, and this scene got rearranged at least six times and took an entire frustrating afternoon to get “right”. The development of both these couples’ relationships is touchy and important, and I wanted these scenes to flow correctly.

            You’ll also notice that, in keeping with the time in history, Uncas has slightly different heritage than he did in the film. The Stockbridge-Munsee came about when Mahican and Munsee Delaware (Lenni-Lenape) groups combined and cohabited a Moravian village in Stockbridge, Massachusetts in the 18thcentury, and as Nathaniel said, migrated west and settled in Wisconsin when they were driven out of their home later. Uncas’ mother being from a Pacific Coastal tribe made the most sense for why the family lives in this area (and the fur trade was still quite active there in the late 19thcentury, a bonus for the guys still being trappers), and it gives an opportunity to explore another First Nations culture to some degree. As always, I try to be respectful and factual as much as possible. The Haida people have occupied areas of Alaska and British Columbia for about 17,000 years, and were/are highly skilled artisans, traders (mostly traded furs with Russians and British), and sea travelers (they made giant seafaring canoes out of western red cedar trees). They were also quite formidable in battle. Nathaniel mentions that his adoptive mother died of smallpox, which would have been a highly likely demise at that time. Smallpox was introduced among the Haida and Tlingit peoples in the 1860s, and many villages were wiped out by it, so it stands to reason that Chingachgook might have taken his sons and become something of a nomad at that point. The Haida had alliances with the Tlingit and several other indigenous peoples in Alaska and the surrounding areas, and if Chingachgook and the boys were trapping and trading furs, they would probably know the territory and some of its people pretty well after a while.

            Following the star legend bit with Nathaniel and Cora, Uncas gets a nasty and shocking retaliation from Alice when he startles her awake, and poor guy, he has no idea what’s wrong with her because he doesn’t know about her traumatic experience at the saloon. At this point Nathaniel knows, but that doesn’t help Uncas much now, does it? It feels mean, but I couldn’t stop giggling imagining that signature “Uncas is so confused” face that Eric Schweig makes sometimes, while Alice is totally kicking his ass. And to make matters worse, then everything goes to pot when Magua shows up once more, surprising everyone nearly to death (quite literally). Nathaniel is SO mad at me for writing him not just one, but two missed shots. Que sera. He’ll get over it.

            Musically, bluegrass still reigns, and this chapter started off with the second half of “Shady Grove” by Bryan Sutton, the first half of which ended Chapter 2, and the soft ending is what I heard when Uncas and Alice started talking. I like Tony Furtado’s beautiful “Crow Canyon” during the part where Nathaniel and Cora start to bond a little discussing family and the star story, and I really like that song for those two, period. Once again David Schnaufer’s “Interlude” made an appearance when Nathaniel hears someone approaching the camp, and when Uncas scares Alice awake. The chapter ends with “Closing: Hick’s Farewell” by Andrea Zonn.

            Stay tuned, dear readers, for we must now find out what happens in chapter 4, and hopefully I can deliver more quickly on that one! Thank you for your patience and support, as always.


	4. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey north continues, and the tincture of time brings awakening feelings.

**Chapter 4**

            The following day, the group set out for Seattle just before dawn, despite everyone running on far too little sleep from the events of the night before. Even after it had come to light that their would-be intruder was in fact the Munro sisters’ missing guide, it had taken a while for things to settle down. Magua had explained that he had led two of the train robbers away into the woods, managing to get far enough ahead of them to climb a tree and wait. The men had ridden on past him but had come back through a while later. After Magua dispatched them both, he commandeered a horse and went back to the railroad, but by this time the Munro sisters had been long gone. Not finding any evidence that they had been harmed or killed, the horses’ tracks splitting off to the northwest had prompted Magua to try to track the sisters down, which was how he had ended up at their camp at a most inopportune moment.

            Alice had worried to no end over Magua attacking Uncas on her behalf, and her own reaction to him trying to keep her quiet before that. Uncas had insisted he was all right and the cut Magua had inflicted was only a flesh wound, so she had let him be and tried to go to sleep again. She was drawn into herself today, quiet and pensive as she rode, sticking close to Cora but casting Uncas a furtive glance here and there. He and Nathaniel rode at the rear of their group as they had the previous day, and Magua rode up front with Chingachgook, the two of them talking quietly for short periods between stretches of silence. Cora was much the same as Alice, brewing inside over her conversation with Nathaniel last night, before all hell had broken loose. She had been pleasantly surprised when his sense of humor had come through a little, and she focused on that to take her mind away from the other part of their interaction – the way he had touched her face, and the way that touch had made such an odd, weak feeling spread through her. Exhausted from lack of sleep and lost in her own head, her previous hypervigilance was not nearly as present today.

            Even Nathaniel and Uncas were slightly off today, not exchanging their usual quiet banter. They watched their surroundings closely but remained mute for the most part. Uncas kept recalling how violently frightened Alice had become last night when he’d tried to protect her, feeling guilty for being the cause of it at that moment and wondering what in the world was at the root of it. Nathaniel was equally lost in his own head, though on a different tangent of thoughts; mostly the pleasure he’d felt at Cora coming out of her shell some. He liked the sense of humor he’d glimpsed, and he liked her grit and fire, and the way she hadn’t hesitated to take charge of the situation when Magua had showed up. But also hanging in his mind was the moonlight on her face in the dark, and the soft draw of her breath when he’d absently touched her cheek. Somehow that was more memorable than anything, and he fought to push the irrationality of it away. They were here only to help these women reach their destination, and once they did it was likely they’d be out of each other’s lives unless they happened to cross paths in Nome.

            In an effort to make good time, they rode hard for the rest of the afternoon, stopping only when absolutely necessary. The sisters breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached Seattle close to sunset, which was far later in the day being this far north at the start of summer. Weary, bedraggled, and hungry, the travelers arrived on Occidental Street and dismounted in front of the Gateway Hotel where Cora and Alice had been instructed to meet Duncan Heyward. He would have been expecting their train the previous evening, but it would clearly not have arrived, and Cora didn’t know where he would be by now – she supposed they’d have to inquire at the hotel desk. She and Alice untied their few belongings from the horses’ saddles, prepared to do just that.

            “Cora!” A man’s voice cut through the sounds of the evening bustle of the street. She turned to see Duncan Heyward hurrying toward them, well-dressed in a dark wool suit and burgundy waistcoat, nearly losing the bowler hat atop his pale ginger hair in his haste to reach them.

            “Duncan!” she cried, her face breaking into a relieved smile at the sight of their friend’s familiar face. He wrapped her in a hug, and she returned the embrace, happy to have arrived at last and be that much closer to reaching her father. Duncan turned to Alice next, clasping her hands in his.

            “My God, Alice, you’ve grown up!” He exclaimed.

            “You look well, too, Duncan,” she replied, beaming at him.

            “By God, it’s good to see you both safe and sound,” Duncan said, releasing Alice’s hands. “I expected you by train last night, but none ever arrived, and I’ve been terribly worried. Now here you are on horseback instead, dressed more like cowboys than ladies, and in rather motley company.” He looked to Magua, the only other face in the group he knew. “What on earth happened?”

            “The train was attacked by a big group of men. They blew up the track and derailed it, shot passengers and crew, and stole the gold the train was hauling from Colorado,” Magua answered sternly.

            Duncan paled. “And yet here you are, by the grace of God.”

            “Thanks to Magua,” Alice interjected. “He distracted them so that Cora and I could escape.”

            “And these men were passing through, and willing to help us as well,” Cora added, introducing Chingachgook, Nathaniel, and Uncas, who stood quietly observing the reunion.

            “My thanks to you for keeping Cora and Alice safe. No doubt their father will be grateful as well, when he hears of this. Magua, it appears we were right to trust them to you, and you will be rewarded by Colonel Munro for delivering them unharmed.”

            “When will we leave for Nome, then, Duncan?” Alice asked.

            Duncan frowned slightly. “I had planned to make passage on the steamship leaving tomorrow morning, but with this late arrival we may be delayed.”

            “Could we still try?” Cora asked hopefully.

            Nathaniel chose that moment to speak up. “It might be better to accept the delay and make a statement about the robbery to the proper authorities here.”

            “That would delay us for certain, possibly for days depending on when the next ship leaves.” Duncan’s tone changed to one of superior annoyance as he eyed Nathaniel. “I have a shipment of mining supplies sitting ready to go, and we are already off our timeline as it is. I don’t see how their statement will change much of anything.”

            “Near as we could tell, they’re the only ones who lived to tell about it, that’s how.” Nathaniel’s eyes sparked with challenge. “We don’t know how many of those men got away, but however many it is, the railroad’s gonna want that precious cargo they made off with back.”

            “Nathaniel is right, Duncan,” Cora interjected, looking between the two men. “I don’t… I don’t think anyone else lived, and those men should be caught and pay for what they did.”

            “Very well,” Duncan replied with a sigh. “Your father sent money along with me to outfit you both for Alaskan weather anyway, so we will need to do that as well as get you some proper clothing so you look more ladylike.” He eyed their attire with mild disdain.

            “Then it’s settled,” Cora said, inwardly rolling her eyes at Duncan’s last comment. “We ought to go first thing in the morning. Magua, you will come with us as well?”

            Magua nodded. “For as much as my word may mean to them. Your words will sit better with them because you are white, but I will tell them what I saw, too.”

            Alice bristled at that – why would Magua’s word, or the words of Uncas or Chingachgook mean any less just for the color of their skin? But she knew that it would, despite the unfairness of it, because the world was not a fair place.

            “Where will you stay tonight?” she asked the four men, looking at Uncas as she spoke, concerned at how drawn and tired he looked. She was not so naïve as to think these men would be welcome as guests at the Gateway Hotel.

            “We have friends here, the Camerons. We will be able to stay with them, we always do when we come to sell furs. Magua may come with us, if he wants to, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” Uncas replied, his voice somewhat strained.

            “I think you had better find a doctor first. You’re bleeding.” Duncan pointed to where Uncas’ hand was pressed to a spot below his ribs on the left side. Fresh blood was seeping onto the fabric of the plum colored shirt he wore, hard to see except for the fact that it was now staining his fingers.

            Alice gasped in dismay. “You _are_ hurt! You told me it wasn’t that bad!”

            “Let me have a look,” Cora demanded, daring him to say no, but Uncas knew better than to fight either sister by now. He moved his hand aside and let her lift the bloodstained fabric enough to see the gash in his side from Magua’s Bowie knife, still seeping steadily.

            “It had stopped bleeding, but it started again while we traveled. I didn’t want to delay us.” He looked at his father and Nathaniel apologetically, then at Alice, her hazel eyes wide and full of regret. “Please don’t, Miss Alice. I’ll be all right.”

            “This needs to be cleaned and stitched, and soon.” Cora finished her assessment and let go of Uncas’ shirt hem.

            “No white doctor in Seattle is going to want my son as a patient,” Chingachgook stated. “Perhaps Alexandra Cameron can help.”

            “Nonsense,” Cora huffed. “I can take care of it just as well as any doctor. I’ve got supplies in my things.”

            Duncan gaped at her. “Cora, really, do you think you ought to - ”

            “Yes, I do,” she interjected. “I’ve stitched up more miners than I can count, and half their children. I’m more than capable. Remember, it’s been a long time since you and my father left Cripple Creek, and I’ve learned a thing or two.”

            Duncan let it go, clearly defeated, and Nathaniel smiled just a little at her mettle. She and Alice took their things and went inside the hotel with Duncan to find the room he had procured for them next to his, and once they had settled in, Cora sent him downstairs for a glass of brandy to disinfect the cut. Once he had brought it and retreated, Alice fetched Uncas and spirited him up the back stairs. Nathaniel came with him, and Chingachgook remained with Magua and the horses. No one was about in the dim hallway to see them being ushered into the Munro sisters’ room except Duncan. Cora let out a sigh of relief as she shut the door and directed Uncas to the washstand where she cleaned the wound, then had him sit down on the chair by the window where Alice had lit a lamp and set out suture supplies on the room’s small desk. He winced a little when she applied the brandy on the open flesh, but stayed still, his breathing shallow as she began to stitch a moment later, dabbing blood away with a damp cloth as she went. It stung like hell, but at least she worked quickly. Alice stood a few feet away ready to help, unable to stop herself from stealing a glance here and there at the shirtless patient in her sister’s care. Staring longer than a proper lady ought to, she took in the muscular physique beneath his dark, coppery skin, the length of his glossy black hair hanging down his back, and the full view of the dark geometric design tattooed across his chest as well as the ones on his forearms. She’d never seen anyone quite like him before, darkly beautiful and strengthened by the wilderness, and it made her both curious and somewhat short of breath.

            Nathaniel watched Cora in silence from the doorway, fascinated by this new facet of her precocity. Her head was bent in concentration, her hair now pinned up, curly deep brown strands escaping to brush against her neck where the soft, elegant line of it met her shoulder. She and Alice had both changed out of their dirty men’s clothing, and she now wore a plain linen blouse with a navy and tan striped skirt. As simple as it was, he liked seeing her like that. He certainly hadn’t minded the sight of her in trousers either, but the clean, feminine lines of a dress left more to the imagination; just hinting at the slim curves beneath as she moved. He cleared his throat quietly and looked away when Cora spoke, tying off the end of her thread and then applying some type of tincture from a dark brown bottle to a folded cloth, placing it over Uncas’ wound.

            “It will seep, and then it’s going to draw,” she explained, taking a roll of linen bandage from Alice to wrap around his torso. “Keep it clean, change the dressing daily, and do not exert yourself too much, or you’ll burst the stitches and it will fester.”

            “Thank you, Miss.” Uncas nodded.          

            “We’ve only got to get to the Camerons’ tonight, so we’ll travel slow,” Nathaniel said. “We’ll be getting back to Nome by steamship once we’ve finished our trading business in Seattle.” He looked at Uncas and gave his brother a lopsided smile. “You about done holdin’ hands with Miss Munro? We’ve got to get going.”

            Cora’s mouth twitched, a blush creeping up her neck, and Uncas laughed quietly and moved to retrieve his shirt. Alice picked it up and handed it to him, her cheeks pinkening as well. He almost smiled at her shy effort not to stare at him without his shirt on, but he didn’t want to embarrass her given that she already felt like this was all her fault. He wished he could tell her that he was almost glad for the opportunity to spend a little longer in her presence.

            “May I?” Nathaniel asked, picking up the remainder of the roll of linen bandage and meeting Cora’s glance. She nodded, giving permission for him to take it for his brother, a wisp of hair falling across her cheek at the corner of her parted lips. The lamplight made her dark eyes appear fathomless and cast a dancing shadow across her skin above the blouse’s partially unbuttoned neckline. He found he was unable to look away from her, and that he didn’t particularly want to. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, she’d gotten under his skin in the last couple of days. Even though he’d see her again before they traveled north, it would be in far more company than this moment, so he looked his fill now, memorizing her face, her hair, her voice, the stubborn, courageous, bewitching essence of her that spoke to him from someplace deep inside her. It made him ache in a way he’d never known before, made him wish for more time to know her.

            Cora’s breathing stopped momentarily as Nathaniel regarded her, the color of his eyes deepening to a golden grey in the dim flicker of the lamp. She recognized something of what she saw there and thought about the way she’d been stared at so many times working at The Patroon’s House. It wasn’t hard to tell when a man had designs on you, but the way those men leered at her had made her feel repulsed, and sometimes frightened. Nathaniel staring at her made her feel nothing like that, and it baffled her. He looked at her not with the drunken, debauched lust she was accustomed to, but with a certain reverence; in such a way that she could almost feel a gentle, whispering caress on her skin as his eyes traveled over her. It made her tremble and ache deep in her belly, and it shocked her when she began to wonder what the touch of his hands could do to her if the mere sweep of his gaze could steal her breath like this. Mortified at herself and hoping the things she was thinking weren’t plain for him to see, she at last found her wits enough to raise her chin and look back at him.

            “What are you looking at, sir?” she asked quietly, hoping that she looked and sounded more confident and defiant than she felt.

            “Well, I’m looking at _you_ , Miss,” he replied, still watching her fixedly, and she felt suddenly as if he had stripped her, not in the sense of the flesh, but to the very soul, as if every part of her inner self was laid bare to him. This unnerved her enough to make her glance downward briefly, then instilled a sense of wonder at the fact that he seemed to _like_ what he saw, if the expression that flashed across those mesmerizing eyes of his was any indication. This revelation awakened a foreign flame of pleasure within her and emboldened her anew. She raised her eyes to his, and unable to help herself, felt a tiny, shy smile forming on her lips. He rewarded her with one of his own, the first full-blown smile since they had met. Its brilliance flashed across his face, the corners of his twinkling eyes creasing as the broad curve of his lips exposed even, white teeth and the deep lines at the corners of his mouth. She thought it might be the loveliest thing she had seen in quite some time. Dimly, she heard Uncas thank her again and say good night to Alice as he moved to the door, and just like that, Nathaniel disappeared into the dark hallway behind his brother, leaving a spellbound Cora staring after him.

* * *

             “Duncan, I… I don’t know what to say!” Cora exclaimed, feeling as if she might faint. Perhaps it was the afternoon humidity of a purportedly rare sunny day in Seattle, or the tightness of the corset she’d gotten used to not wearing the last several days, or exhaustion from such a busy day. That morning Duncan had insisted on escorting her and Alice to the Pinkerton Agency office to make their statement about the train robbery. Magua had met them there along with Nathaniel, Uncas, and Chingachgook, and fortunately the detective they had spoken with was grateful to have a number of direct witnesses, regardless of their cultural or societal background. Once they had concluded there, she and Alice had bid goodbye to their guide and rescuers, and Duncan had taken them to purchase clothing in addition to the limited supply they had brought from Colorado – dresses, as well as sturdy, warm items for the cold weather in Alaska. She and Alice had been fairly done in by the time they’d made it back to the hotel and Duncan had asked her to have tea with him alone on the patio, so yes, perhaps exhaustion was the cause of her woozy state. But then again, it was most likely because Duncan Heyward had just asked her to marry him, and she had to figure out how to say no gracefully. He was staring expectantly across the table from her, awaiting her response.

            “Duncan, you have been invaluable to my father these past years, and a friend to myself and Alice. I truly wish they did, but… my feelings don’t go beyond friendship. Don’t you see?” She looked at him in earnest as his face fell, his dark eyes clouding.

            “But are respect and friendship not a reasonable basis for a couple to marry?”

            “Some people would say that’s how it is… even my father, but I -”

            “Then why not at least take time to consider it? Let those you trust, your father, help decide what is best for you. Will you do that?”

            Cora pressed her lips together, unsure of whether to be angry or sad. She had trusted her fate to her father to the point of folly, and she and Alice had ended up at The Patroon’s House, exposed to all manner of lewdness and danger. They loved Franny and she did not want to be angry at her father, but he had let gold dictate his path one too many times, and it had cost much. She certainly did not want him to decide who she should marry. She was perfectly capable of doing that for herself, and she would rather die an eccentric spinster than marry someone she did not love, for she had no romantic inclination toward Duncan. She recalled the way Nathaniel had looked at her the previous evening, and the way it had made her feel. She had never felt like that when Duncan looked at her, and while there was certainly no expectation of a future involving Nathaniel, she felt in her heart that Duncan was not the right match. As much as he seemed to care for her, she did not like his thinly veiled questioning of everything she did, or the superior way he treated the men who had saved her and Alice from certain death. Barely having gotten away from her checkered life in Cripple Creek, being hit with this now was the last thing she wanted, and Duncan clearly had no clue. Physically and mentally drained and wishing only to escape the conversation for the time being, she nodded in assent to his request for consideration, though she doubted very much that she would change her mind.

* * *

 

            Five days later, Cora’s mind had not changed, though many other things had. Two days after their arrival in Seattle, she and Alice had boarded a 200-passenger steamship bound for Nome along with Duncan and her father’s cargo, and they were currently two-thirds of the way to their destination. The ship had sailed through the northernmost corner of the Pacific Ocean and was now passing the Aleutian Islands into the frigid waters of the Bering Sea. This was like nothing either young woman had ever seen, and while the circumstances weren’t the finest, it was bracing to face a whole new world so far north.

            “Look, Cora!” Alice exclaimed as they stood on the steamer’s deck one late afternoon. Cora looked to where her sister was pointing, at a group of strange, rotund creatures lounging on the icy shore in the distance.

            “Walrus,” said a deep voice behind them. Uncas stepped up to the rail beside Alice with a gentle smile. “They don’t look like much from this distance, but they’re big, and they can be dangerous.”

            “I could believe it,” Alice replied. “I’ve read about them in books, but to see them now… look at the size of their tusks, you can see them all the way from here!”

            Cora enjoyed Alice’s enthusiasm and smiled in secret gladness for the unexpected company of Uncas and his family. The sisters had been both surprised and pleased when they had boarded the ship at Seattle Harbor and discovered that they would be traveling north with their rescuers, including Magua. Though they were bunked in a different area of the vessel and there were many other passengers on board, running into them was inevitable here and there, since a ship was only so big. She and Alice had made a few other new acquaintances as well, people traveling to Nome hoping to find some fortune there in mining, or to serve the miners in business. The sisters often roamed the decks together during the day, as Duncan was rather prone to seasickness and spent much of the journey in his cabin feeling unwell.

            “Well, if it ain’t the Misses Munro!” A tall, smiling man around fifty years of age stepped up to them, wearing a well-made wool suit and frock coat. His brown hair was combed back beneath his black beaver hat, and his impressive, thick handlebar moustache curved upward as he smiled at them, his pale blue eyes sparkling. His wife was beside him, her dark curly hair piled up beneath a fashionably perched hat, coat buttoned over a dark purple day dress trimmed in soutache braid.

            “Hello Mr. Earp, Josie.” Cora smiled and nodded her head in greeting.

            “Wyatt.” Uncas accepted the man’s handshake, gripping his forearm as a friend would. Wyatt and Josephine Earp were past acquaintances of Uncas, Nathaniel, and their father from time spent in Seattle trading, and this year the couple had decided to head north to make a go of it in Nome. They planned to open a big saloon, since Nome had none very grand as of yet, and Wyatt’s plan for success was to “mine the miners”, as he always put it with a laugh. The couple stayed to converse briefly, and then moved on.

            “I ought to check on Duncan, Alice,” Cora sighed. “He is feeling especially wretched today, and I hate to abandon him for too long.”

            “Shall I come with you?” Alice asked.

            “Not unless you really want to. Stay here and enjoy the air, I’ll return soon enough.” She turned and left the deck. Uncas watched her go, then turned his attention back to Alice. She looked like a picture standing there in a rose-colored day dress, a warm hooded cloak around her upper body and her cheeks ruddy from the brisk, cold breeze as she looked at him and spoke.

            “I imagine Nome is not a big place, then, if Mr. Earp and his wife are the first to build a proper saloon.”

            “It isn’t, at least not now. I expect it will be soon enough, though. People go where they think they will become rich. And some of them are already becoming so.”

            “Like my father,” she mused. “And then there are the opportunists like Mr. Earp, and I imagine he will do well for himself. If I’ve learned anything these past few years, it’s that miners like to spend their gold on drink and women.”

            “From living in a mining town, you mean?” He stared at her quizzically, her blunt observation catching him off guard.

            “That, yes, but mostly living in a saloon among women of ill repute, since Papa sold our property and went to the Klondike without us.” Uncas swallowed, shaken by this revelation, and looked out over the deep blue water. Alice began to regret her offhand admission of where she and Cora and spent the last two years, wondering what conclusion he might be reaching about them, and suddenly felt panicked. “Of course, we stayed there with the owner, who is the widow of Papa’s late mining partner,” she continued in a rush. “We didn’t _work_ there. I mean, we did, but not… not like that, I mean, we weren’t… we never…”

            Uncas watched her face change as she stammered. She had been open and casual at first, but now her cheeks flamed deep red, and her eyes filled with a desperate kind of shame that made him feel like he had a stone in his chest.

            “You did what you had to do,” he spoke gently.

            She nodded. “Franny was good to us, really. It was the only place we could go. Mama was dead, and we weren’t close to anyone else.”

            “But not where you ought to have been.” He wondered at how driven her father must really be, to have left her and Cora like that. “There’s a long list of bad things that could happen to women in such a place, even if they aren’t working as prostitutes.”

            “And sometimes they did,” she said woodenly, figuring she might as well come clean to him since the damage was done. “Not as bad as they might have been without Franny and Liam to protect us, but they couldn’t be with us all the time. Men have gone after Cora a few times, and one time she almost didn’t get away. And me, too.” She continued, telling him what had happened the night Magua had come for them. “If it hadn’t been for Cora, I’m sure it would have been so much worse.”

            Uncas frowned in quiet anger, his eyes going impossibly darker, and his stomach clenched painfully. “Miss Alice, that night in the woods, when Magua came… I had no idea. I couldn’t imagine what I’d done to scare you so bad. I’m sorry.”

            “It wasn’t your fault.” She shook her head. “Nor mine, I suppose, though I still feel terrible about you getting injured because of me.”

            “It’s healing just fine. Besides, I think we ought to just put the blame on the bastard who started the whole thing. That seems fair, wouldn’t you say?”

            “Yes, I think that would do just fine.” The sadness was gone from her hazel eyes now, and her lips quirked just a little. “Thank you,” she said softly. He didn’t need to ask what for. He could imagine the poor judgment she might receive by telling her story to the wrong sort of person, especially since he’d been on the wrong side of people’s opinions his entire life, by birth alone. He simply stood beside her until Cora returned, and then excused himself quietly.

* * *

             Not feeling tired in the least, Cora set down the book she was reading by candlelight with a long sigh. Up here the sun set much later than she was used to, and it had been affecting her sleep the last several nights. She hadn’t even bothered to change into a nightgown yet, knowing she’d likely be awake until at least midnight. Alice had fallen asleep about an hour ago, and Cora remained awake, turning over thoughts of what the future held in Nome, and the inconvenience of Duncan’s proposal, which she had confided to Alice along with her disinclination to accept. She wondered if part of his self-seclusion had anything to do with her rejection.

            At last restlessness drove her to don her coat and venture out onto the ship’s starboard deck. The noise of the daytime was absent with all the passengers asleep in their bunks, and the silence was welcome. The air was even colder at night, carrying a faint spray from the sea now and then to the deck railing where she stood. She tipped her head back with a faint gasp, taking in the entire magnificence of the clear night sky. She’d certainly seen beautiful starry nights before, but not like this. On the open sea with nothing blocking the view, they were so thick she could scarcely make out the patterns of constellations, and the Milky Way stretched across the sky in an ethereal streak of smoky, faded blue, copper and grey.

            “Miss Munro, I didn’t expect to see you on deck at this hour.” Cora nearly jumped out of her skin, turning to find Nathaniel approaching. Hand over her pounding heart, she let out a shaky breath. “My apologies,” he offered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

            “No harm done, Mr. Poe. I have had some difficulty getting to sleep the last several nights, and I thought it might help to take a walk. And yourself?”

            He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the railing beside her. “About the same. I’m used to being on land, used to moving distances, going different places. I always get restless on a boat. But the one thing I do like about it is this.” One of his long arms stretched out, indicating the glory above them. 

            “It is a sight to behold, isn’t it?” Cora whispered. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. No trees, no mountains, only the sea and the sky. It almost feels as if we’re sailing into the heavens.”

            “The Delaware say that the Milky Way is the road to Heaven. That’s what my father always told us.”

            “Ah, yes. And the stars reminders of the souls who travel upon it.” She looked up at him, just able to make out his stark profile in the light of a barely waxing moon, the stars reflected in his pale eyes. “And your mother’s people, the Haida – what do they say about the origin of the stars?”

            Nathaniel glanced back at her and grinned. “Now that’s quite a tale, and one I made her tell me over and over as a boy. When the world was first made, people lived in darkness and cold because there was no light. Raven felt sorry for the people and went in search of a solution. He flew far away to a place where an old man and his daughter lived, and in their house was a box that contained a ball made of light. Raven transformed himself into a pine needle and fell into the water so that the man’s daughter scooped him up one day and drank him, and he was later born of her as a boy child. The girl and her father loved him, so he eventually tricked them into letting him play with the box that held the light, and then the light itself. When the old man tossed the ball to him, he transformed back into Raven, stole the great ball of light, and flew away with it into the sky. The whole world was suddenly filled with light, and the people and animals could at last see all the beauty around them. Raven was so busy looking at the world below that he didn’t see Eagle coming after him until it was almost too late. He ducked out of the way to escape, but part of the ball of light fell to the earth. It shattered and the bits of it bounced back into the sky, and those became the moon and stars. Raven let go of the remaining light when Eagle finally chased him to the edge of the world, and it stayed in the sky and became the sun. So that is why Raven the trickster is revered among my mother’s people, because he brought light to the world.”

            Cora smiled. “I think I like that story even better than the other.”

            “There are plenty more stories about Raven, but that’s the most important one.”

            “I should like to hear them one day.” She looked up at the sky, and then at Nathaniel. “Thank you for indulging me in my sleepless state. Perhaps the longer days are what keep me awake, but I don’t think it’s just that. It’s… this is all so different from what I’ve ever known, and I hardly know what to expect anymore. Where I’ve come from seems like another universe compared to this, and that’s not how I thought it would be, living in Colorado while we waited to be sent for.”

            “I hope you’re not disappointed.” He cocked his head to one side.

            “No, on the contrary. It is more deeply stirring to my blood than any imagining could possibly have been.”

            Nathaniel could say nothing in reply to this. She was gazing up at him as if surprised by her own admission, her quick breaths clouding in the cold air. Beneath her coat she still wore the pale blue walking dress she’d been wearing earlier that day. It glowed in the starlight, as did her pale skin. But her eyes, dark as they were, mirrored the sky so that they looked like tiny galaxies all by themselves, and for a long moment he was lost in them, his own blood equally stirred. She broke the enchantment at last, casting her eyes downward and bidding him a whispered ‘good night’, and this time it was she who left him gazing after her long after she’d disappeared from the ship’s deck.

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**

            I owe my readers sixteen different apologies for taking almost three months to post this damn chapter! Take comfort in the fact that it drove me nuts, too, but the last few months have been jam-packed and there never seemed to be enough free time to make real progress until recently. We adopted a super amazing cat back in September who had been previously injured, and he ended up having a damaged front leg amputated back in November, so that occupied some time. Then came the end of the year busy surgery season at work and the holiday season, plus life and family and all, and BOOM, the LOTM gang ends up twiddling their thumbs in a corner of my brain for quite a long time! I’m hoping future chapters will not take that long, and I hope this one was worth the long wait.

            I don’t think this chapter needs a huge amount of explanation. Pieces of the film wove themselves nicely into the text throughout, and that is always fun and challenging to do. I wanted the story to move forward, but with more “inbetween” interaction with Cora, Nathaniel, Uncas, and Alice that allows for the awakening of feelings between both couples. And enter Duncan, the unfortunate third wheel. I tried not to make him too dickish, poor guy, but he’s certainly no Nathaniel. His chronic seasickness was something mentioned in the original movie script, but the line was cut from the film, so I added that detail here.

            You all know by now that I really enjoy including interesting characters in my fics, especially when they’re real historical figures, so it shouldn’t surprise you in the least that I have been incredibly excited about being able to put Wyatt Earp in this story. I blame my husband for that; he was helping me decide which firearms to give everyone in Chapter 2, when he stumbled upon a photo of the Smith & Wesson Model 3 revolver that Wyatt Earp carried during his time in Alaska. Everyone knows Wyatt Earp from the gunfight at the OK Corral in Tombstone, Arizona, but aside from that he lived a very eventful life in several other locations, one of which was Nome, Alaska. He and his third wife Josephine really did travel there in 1899 to open the Dexter Saloon, running it in the warmer summer season and then returning to the lower U.S. in the winter. After a few years they returned permanently, having “mined the miners” for about $80,000 – a hefty sum back then. Historical characters are so much fun, heehee!

            All in all, this chapter leaves everyone appropriately twitterpated (Except Duncan, he’s just disappointed and seasick). I might have been done with this chapter sooner except that Alice and Uncas wanted to have that conversation about what happened to her in Colorado, so I had to indulge them before I let Nathaniel and Cora have their fine moment at the end of the chapter. The Raven story Nathaniel told Cora is fairly widespread among northern Pacific coastal cultures, where Raven is highly revered and is usually one of the main two or three moieties to which clans are related in those societies. I adore this particular Raven story, and it seemed like a really good one for Nathaniel to tell Cora since it’s another ‘origin of the stars’ type of legend, and it was a way to work in his mother’s culture (and her clan) since that’s something that is different in this AU.

            As for music, this chapter starts off with Tony Furtado’s “The Knave’s Bane” as the group travels on to Seattle. At the very end of the modified surgery scene when Nathaniel and Cora have their famous interaction and he turns to leave, I was hearing Steve Buckingham’s “Interlude”, followed immediately by Andrea Zonn’s “Hick’s Farewell” again when Cora reject’s Duncan’s proposal (those two have very similar melodies and tie in the Nathaniel vs. Duncan conflict in Cora’s mind). “Sundin” by Tony Furtado was in my head for the scene on the steamship when Uncas and Alice are talking. Though it’s not necessarily the official “track” for the last scene between Nathaniel and Cora, “Restless” by Alison Krauss & Union Station really reminds me of Cora at the beginning of that part, but the song I like best for that whole interaction is “McGuire’s Landing” by Pete Huttlinger. It’s soft and pretty just like their conversation, and the end of it kind of leaves you hanging, just like Nathaniel at the very end of this chapter.

            That’s all for now, dear readers, but I promise to make a truly concerted effort to not take so long with my next update. I’m having PRK eye surgery in a week to correct my extreme nearsightedness and I’ve taken a week off work afterward, so I’m really hoping that I’ll be doing well enough after a few days to get some writing done on the next chapter while I’m home. Thank you all so very much for being patient these last couple of months – in general it definitely takes longer to write a chapter than it did before I started working again, and I appreciate each and every one of you for waiting, PMing to check on the status of in-progress updates (truly, that lets me know you care and I love that), and most especially for reading and reviewing when I finally manage to post. Stay tuned!


	5. A New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Travelers arrive in Alaska, and as Cora and Alice settle, they begin to discover that one man's success often has a price paid by another.

**Chapter 5**

            Alice sighed excitedly, her breath clouding in the cold Alaskan air. Behind her, Cora smiled, unable to fend off the contagion of Alice’s enthusiasm for this new life they were literally sailing into. The long cedar canoe they were being conveyed ashore in cut through the water of Norton Sound, still icy from the late spring thaw. The steamship was anchored a short distance behind them, as there was no proper wharf at Nome and the large vessels were unable to get right up to the shore. Their luggage rode with them in the canoe, while their horses would be ferried ashore with the other livestock. Other passengers and supplies were similarly loaded onto boats or huge canoes even bigger than theirs and taken the remaining distance. Uncas had told them these were made from the hollowed-out trunks of the massive red cedar trees that grew further south on the mainland and the islands he called _Haida Gwaii,_ where his mother’s people were from. The Haida and other peoples had used them for sea travel and trade for hundreds of years, as they could carry thousands of pounds in people and cargo. This particular one was beautifully painted in black, white, and bright red with the same swirling Raven design emblazoned on Chingachgook’s vest, among other animals. It was smaller than the cargo ones, and it belonged to Chingachgook and his sons.

            Alice and Cora both watched from the middle of the canoe as it came closer to land, Chingachgook in the front with Uncas behind him, and Nathaniel in the rear with Duncan. Each of them had been given an oar and a short lesson to assist with the rowing. The view of the budding town of Nome showed a vast array of heavy canvas tents a short distance inland, where the women knew most of the miners and their families lived. There were a few cabins scattered further away, as well as larger structures close by the tent village, some of which appeared to be under construction. Wyatt Earp’s saloon would soon be among them, Cora mused, thankful that she and Alice were now far, far away from their life in Cripple Creek. Beyond the town, the Snake River stretched away into the open tundra, and they could see prospectors working along the banks, tiny as Gulliver’s Lilliputians from this distance.

            “I cannot wait to see Papa!” Alice said aloud, her anticipation brimming over.

            “As soon as we are ashore, we’ll see you both properly settled with him,” Duncan assured her. “A fire, food, perhaps even a hot bath, if I can persuade some of the men to help bring the water.”

            Alice laughed gaily. “Oh, Duncan, that sounds heavenly. I think if Cora doesn’t marry you, I’ll marry you myself!”

            Nathaniel didn’t miss the subtle flinch of Duncan’s shoulders, or the flush that perfused the skin at the back of his neck. He observed in silence as Cora shot Alice a mortified look.

            _“I’m sorry,”_ Alice mouthed at her sister.

            Cora glanced back at Nathaniel, unable to mask the slight panic that arose in her when he cocked an eyebrow but remained utterly impassive otherwise. She turned her attention back to rowing, leaving him wondering what the hell this was all about. Surely she’d have mentioned at some point if she and this Heyward were engaged… wouldn’t she? He stabbed his oar into the water with a little more force than necessary. It didn’t matter, he told himself. Cora Munro’s life wasn’t any of his damn business.

            Though it was only a few moments, it felt like an eternity to the sisters before they at last reached the misty shore that was crowded with people, boats, animals, and supplies. The canoe ran up onto the thick, rocky sand with a wet thump. Once they were moored securely Alice allowed Uncas to assist her in climbing out, the warmth of his strong hands wrapped around hers soothing in the chilly air. She smiled at him and murmured thanks, then lowered her gaze. He took his time letting go of her, marveling a little at the delicacy of her hands compared to his.

            Nathaniel leapt deftly over the tall side of the canoe onto the sand, offering a hand to Cora. Somewhat relieved that he’d beaten Duncan to it, she lifted the hem of her skirt and stepped up onto the edge, leaning downward to place her hands in his. Instead her boot heel slipped, and she began to lose her footing and pitched forward. Before she could even begin to react, Nathaniel had bypassed her outstretched hands and caught her around the waist. She felt the sure, steadfast grip of his long fingers even though her coat and corset, but only for a moment before she awkwardly slammed into him, her arms instinctively flying around his neck and knocking his worn Stetson off. His lean, sinewy arms locked around her as he staggered a little and recovered his footing, grinning down at her with a twinkle in his clear green eyes.

            “I wouldn’t recommend taking a dip in the bay today, Miss Munro. It’s awful cold.”

            A breathy laugh escaped her lips, and a pretty blush crept up her cheeks, the fading bruise beneath her right eye lost in the suffusion of pink. He was keenly aware of her arms still wrapped around his neck, and right then he was thinking an awful lot about whether she might let him kiss her if they weren’t surrounded by other people – and if he hadn’t heard what Alice had said to Duncan a few minutes ago. That brought him back to reality quick, a little sinking feeling inside him. Cora seemed to remember herself right about then too, and he felt colder as her arms slid away. Picking his hat up, he backed off to help the other men unload their and the women’s belongings.

            As they finished, Duncan waved and hollered to a veritable oak tree of a man, tall, broad and heavy-set with long salt-and-pepper hair and an impressive matching beard. He wore sealskin boots with heavy overalls and a thick flannel shirt beneath. He was driving a wagon-type contraption, but instead of horses, a team of sled dogs was pulling it, barking and yelping with excitement as he halted them close by and got down to meet them.

            “Duncan, we expected you sooner!” the man belted in a heavy Russian accent, shaking Duncan’s hand in greeting.

            “Yes, we should have arrived two days ago, however, Colonel Munro’s daughters had an unfortunate setback in their travel plans, and we were delayed.” Duncan turned and gestured toward the Munro sisters. “Cora, Alice, may I introduce you to Mr. Mikhail Ivanov. He will take your things to your father’s cabin.”

            The women took turns shaking Ivanov’s bear-paw hands and exchanging smiles.

            “It is wonderful to meet you at last; your father speaks of you often,” he told them. “And traveling with these trouble-makers, no less! Chingachgook, Hawkeye, Uncas. It has been too long, _druz’ya moi_. How was the trapping season this year?”

            “It was good to us,” Chingachgook said, clasping the hand the other man offered.

            “That it was. We took more furs than we expected to, any case,” Nathaniel added, as he and Uncas greeted their friend in turn. “You’ll be happy to know that your take sold well, too.”

            Conversation continued, and in its course the sisters found out that Ivanov and his wife Nayak, an Inupiaq woman from a nearby village, lived not far from Edmund Munro’s cabin up the river. The big Russian had come to Alaska originally as a fur trapper, and years later had settled in Nome when he met Nayak. He still trapped for profit part of the year, which was how he had fallen in with Chingachgook and his sons; they often took his furs south with them to sell, since he wasn’t keen to leave his wife. When he wasn’t trapping, he was panning for gold or doing odd jobs for the locals such as construction or hauling supplies when they came in on the steamships. On Alice’s curious inquiry he explained that he used a sled with the dog team to haul goods in the colder months when it was snowy, but come the thaw in summer, the wagon traveled better on the muddy dirt roads. Cora and Alice were not particularly surprised that their travel companions knew Mr. Ivanov, given the small population in Nome and the fact that they had lived here for some time. But why was Ivanov here and their father was nowhere to be seen? Alice scanned the shoreline anxiously, her brow furrowed.

            “I think perhaps I am not the man you want to see most, _milaya_ ,” he chuckled, winking a watery blue eye at her. “Your father will be - ”

            “ _PAPA!_ ” Alice cried, spotting Edmund Munro approaching through the crowd, and pushing past everyone to rush at him with Cora following close behind her.  

            “Girls!” The Scotsman sighed with relief, gathering his daughters to him. “Why were you not here on the last ship? I’ve been so worried!” As he hugged them tightly, he looked to Duncan and Magua questioningly, and then took in the three new faces of the men who stood with them. He let go of the women and frowned with concern. “Who are these men? What happened to you?”

            Cora opened her mouth to tell him, but Duncan spoke before she could. She pressed her lips together, rankled.

            “Their train was attacked before it reached Seattle, the cargo stolen and most or all of the passengers killed. Magua led the criminals away from Cora and Alice, and these men came to their aid and brought them safely to Seattle.” Duncan nodded toward Chingachgook, Uncas, and Nathaniel.

            “I’m indebted to you,” Munro said, shaking their hands as they were introduced. He shook Magua’s hand last. “Thank you for bringing my girls safely to me.”

            As he spoke to them a little more, Cora could feel Nathaniel’s stare on her even from several feet away, and she fixed her eyes on his over Duncan’s shoulder. There was something there that almost seemed sad, a kind of reluctant longing that she didn’t know how to respond to, so she looked back at him unwaveringly, hoping he knew that she felt it, too. The last week had made them friends, and she wondered if after today they would ever have any more opportunities to talk the way they had been able to while they had traveled together. She suspected there would be few to none, and part of her grieved the severance of the odd attachment she felt to him. No one else in the group noticed the way they regarded one another, nor did they notice the almost pleading look Alice launched at Uncas. He gazed back at her, his face and jet-colored eyes unreadable, and she wished she could hide her feelings as well as he did sometimes. She looked away, fearing he would see that she somehow missed his quiet company already, even though she was unspeakably glad to be back with her father.

* * *

            Several weeks sped by as Cora and Alice settled into life in Nome. In some ways it was similar to the mining life in Cripple Creek, but in many others, Alaska was a whole new world. The days were so long as summer came that it sometimes seemed they would never end; sunset came near midnight or later, and the darkness only lasted five or six hours before the sun rose again. Alice had always been better at sleep than Cora, and adjusted more quickly as a result, but Cora at last began to get used to the odd daylight hours as well. At first the sisters busied themselves making the cabin they shared with their father into more of a home, tidying up and preparing meals daily. Duncan sometimes visited with Edmund when they were done working for the day, hopeful that Cora might have an answer to his proposal, but she had thus far continued to put him off, undecided.

            Nayak Ivanov would often come to see them while their father worked the days away on the river with Duncan and the other miners. She was a happy, friendly woman younger than Mikhail by a number of years, her figure robust with a lovely smile and long black hair. She loved Mikhail, their boisterous pack of sled dogs, and their simple way of life, even though her relatives in her nearby village were not happy that she had settled with a white man. Cora and Alice adored her immediately and were equally charmed by her grizzly bear of a husband, who would sometimes haul dry goods from the town’s small general store for them or bring them moose or caribou meat if he’d been hunting.

            After a while, the sisters grew bored of being at the cabin and began venturing outside more as the weather got warmer near the end of June. Cora, unwilling to give up medical care, had quickly befriended a physician in town named Dr. Phelps. She and Alice would assist him with sick calls a few days per week to keep themselves occupied. Wyatt Earp’s business partner Charles Hoxie had arrived in Nome and building had begun on the grandiose Dexter Saloon, leaving Josie to herself much of the time. Sometimes Cora and Alice would stop and visit with her when they went to town, which Wyatt appreciated since she had a great love of gambling, and the visits kept her away from the card tables at other establishments. Once in a while they might see Magua and say hello to him, but he lived with the Inupiaq several miles away and only came to town when he was working for someone, or when supplies were needed that the steamships brought in. To their disappointment they didn’t see much of Chingachgook or his sons either, even though their cabin was not very far away according to Mikhail.

            The population of Nome was rising quickly with crowds of people arriving almost daily by ship, the tent village growing exponentially by the week, and the beaches and riverbanks now virtually solid with prospectors hoping to get their share of the readily available gold. One or both sisters often took lunch or dinner to Edmund, and would watch the men working at the dredges on the water or on the banks at the large sluices and rocker boxes they had spent weeks building before they could begin steam-softening the cold, hard soil and gravel to find the precious gold that lay within. It was hard, cold, dirty work, but it was paying off for Edmund and his crew. They had been among the first to arrive and stake a claim, and it had been a good one - Munro was at last reaping a substantial financial reward for his efforts.

            That kind of success for one party did not come without issue or cost to another, however, which the sisters began to find out one late afternoon as they were leaving Dr. Phelps’ office. A small crowd was gathering just up the street, and there was a thick tension in the air that could be felt even from the distance where Cora and Alice paused in their curiosity. A group of miners, several of whom they recognized from their father’s crew, seemed to be facing off in argument with some men from the Inupiaq village. One of them was Magua, who stood about a head taller than the others and was easy to recognize by his distinct features. Cora gave a small gasp when she also recognized Chingachgook standing with them, and nearly started out of her skin when a hand touched her shoulder as they moved closer to see what was going on.

            “Miss Munro.”

            Her heart leapt to a gallop, immediately recognizing the sound of Nathaniel Poe’s voice, despite not having seen him in weeks. She turned in surprise to see him there, Uncas with him. The half-formed smile on her face retreated when she saw the concerned looks on their faces.

            “What’s going on?” she asked warily, her gaze sliding to where Nathaniel’s hand rested on his revolver, the ever-present longrifle strapped across his back.

            “Trouble, most likely,” Uncas answered darkly, affording Alice a glance before turning his vigilant gaze back to his father.

            “There’s concern among the people in the village over the mining and what it’s doing to the river,” Nathaniel clarified. “They’re trying to address it before it gets to the creeks and tributaries, too.”

            “What do you mean?” Cora frowned, her concern deepening.

            “Miners are flooding in by the day, you’ve seen it for yourselves I’m sure.” Nathaniel swept a hand toward the ever-expanding rows of tents beyond the main street. “They’re digging up the beaches and the riverbank and dredging the river, and it’s going to affect the fish population, especially when the salmon run in from the bay. The Inupiaq – and us, too – are dependent on the summer spawning run of salmon and trout for food. There might be less harm if the miners will agree to stay out of the smaller waterways, so the fish have somewhere to spawn, and that’s what they’re trying to accomplish by talking to them. Because if there aren’t enough fish to catch and smoke for winter, then the people risk starvation, or at the very least being more dependent than they want to be on supplies being shipped in by those who are causing the problem to begin with.”

            “I see,” Cora replied softly, exchanging a brief sorrowful look with Alice, whose attention was then riveted to Uncas as he moved to stand with his father. This problem was not something either woman might have considered before they had started their journey here; before they had met Magua and heard his story, or befriended the men who had helped them get here, and now Nayak, who was still one of her people even if she lived apart from the village. But now it only furthered their awakening into painful awareness of the other side of the coin. The influx of miners here would snowball and continue to affect the Inupiaq population just as it had in the mainland United States with population expansion, and they hadn’t the numbers or the power to stop it. Nathaniel moved away from them to stand with his family as Duncan arrived and pushed his way through the crowd, stopping when he saw Cora and Alice.

            “You shouldn’t be here,” he admonished. “This is no place for either of you, and this is none of your concern.”

            “Is that so?” Cora raised a challenging brow. “I would hardly think we would not be concerned, given that this has everything to do with the reason you and Papa are here.”

            Duncan frowned and moved on past them to the group of miners who worked under him. “What’s going on here, Bill?” he asked, looking to a tall, bearded miner.

            “They’re sayin’ we ought to keep out of the crick beds. Something about fish breeding or some such.”

            “We are only asking that you listen, Heyward.” Magua stepped forward to speak, looking hopeful that someone he knew, at least, might hear what was being said. “The spawning season begins soon, and they will need waters untouched by the mining.”

            “Fish ain’t worth the gold!” someone called out from the back of the group, at which the miners hummed in agreement.

            “Fish may not be worth the gold to you,” one of the Inupiaq men spoke up. “But perhaps they are to those who are not you.”

            “They are worth _more_ than gold,” Uncas agreed, his eyes hard with resolve. “Gold is not greater than the price of destroying what allows people to stay alive. Is that not worth leaving a little gold unclaimed?” He looked questioningly to Duncan, who held up a patronizing hand as he replied.

            “Surely you must understand that there is no way to enforce what you are asking. There are simply too many individual outfits, and they will do as they please.”

            “That’s right!” another man shouted, drawing a response from the rest of the mining crowd. “We didn’t come here for nothing!”

            “Yeah, and how do we know they don’t want us to stay away just so they can get the gold for themselves!”

            The miners grew more agitated at this inflammatory remark, and the crowd had gotten large enough to add to the problem by now, pressing in on the group of Inupiaq enough that Magua got shoved hard into one of the miners. The big miner shoved Magua back and took a wild swing at him, striking him across the face. Magua moved as if to hit him back, but Nathaniel grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Cora and Alice looked on in horror, fearing for what might come next if this madness didn’t stop. They’d seen more than one large-scale fight in their time at The Patroon’s House, and they knew angry saloon crowds with weapons never made for a good mix.

            “These men aren’t asking for a fight!” Nathaniel hollered over the din of the crowd, standing protectively in front of Magua, but by now no one was inclined to listen. Just as all hell was breaking loose, a gunshot rang out in the air and the chaos stopped as Jeffrey Beams, the town Marshal, shoved his way through to the front with a deputy named Jack Winthrop, followed by Edmund Munro. A few other deputies stood by, sending the onlookers on their way.

            “What’s the meaning of all this?” Munro asked Duncan, eyeing the two groups of men left after the crowd had begun to disperse.

            “We’ll sort it out at my office, Edmund,” Beams interrupted. “You’re all coming with me.” He and the deputies rounded up the dozen or so men at the center of the problem, herding them toward the wooden building across the road that housed the Marshal’s office and the jail. Alice and Cora followed discreetly, worried about what would happen to their friends, and concerned for their father now being involved as well. They arrived several minutes behind in order to avoid being seen and hung outside near the open door, listening to the discussion inside that was already underway.

            “And where did you come into all this, Heyward?” Beams was asking.

            “I arrived shortly after it started, sir. I tried to explain to them that while their problem may be legitimate, there is no way to curb the mining activity. They just didn’t want to listen.”

            “All we ask is a compromise,” Magua said. Your people have laws about what may or may not be done, and where a man may or may not go. You have made them for my people and many others. It should be a simple thing to make them for your own people too, to limit mining to the beaches and the river.”

            “This town is inundated with people arriving daily, and I’m supposed to try to impose this on thousands of people for the sake of one village?” Beams scoffed.

            “It could never be done,” Munro interjected, shaking his head. “Even if some of us agreed to stay where we are, there are others who would not.”

            “It isn’t just one village.” Uncas stepped forward to speak. “There are more in other places on the peninsula. These people, they have homes, and families to feed!”

            “As do the people coming here, and the concern of the villages is not enough to outweigh the interests of gold mining here.” Munro said resolutely.

            “And when winter comes, what then?” Magua challenged. “When half these people leave, and supplies can’t be shipped in, and everyone is starving, what then?”

            “This argument is a dead end as far as I’m concerned,” Beams stated with finality. I’m not here to discuss mining rights, I’m here to make sure peace is kept in this town. Bringing futile arguments and starting fights in the streets of Nome isn’t keeping the peace.”

            “That is not what happened,” Magua stated in his own defense.

            “Yeah it is!” piped up the miner he’d scuffled with. “He shoved me ‘cause he was mad, and so I hit him!”

            “That’s not true,” Nathaniel said, looking at Duncan expectantly. “The crowd got out of control is all, and Magua was caught in the thick of it. Heyward was right there, too, he saw what it was.”

            “And what exactly _did_ you see, Duncan?” Munro asked him, waiting for his answer along with Beams. Cora held her breath as Duncan looked at them, and then at Nathaniel for a moment, sizing him up, considering. His dark eyes hardened, and he seemed to come to some kind of decision as he looked back to the Marshal and Edmund.

            “I saw nothing that would lead me to believe this was anything other than Indians bent on making trouble.”

            Cora felt as if she’d been struck, her disappointment in Duncan washing over her with a wave of disgust for what he had said. Alice looked at her in equal shock, tears springing to her eyes. Duncan caught sight of Cora then, but it was far too late to reconsider what had already come out of his mouth, and they both knew it.

            “You’re a liar!” Nathaniel growled, stepping forward with Uncas right beside him.

            “That is enough!” Beams hollered, striking the desktop in front of him. Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to arrest the lot of you!” He dismissed them harshly with a wave of his hand, and the two women stood aside as men began to file out of the office and back into the muddy street.

            “I’m sorry, Nathaniel,” Jack Winthrop said as he walked to the door to see him out, anger evident in his blue eyes. “Your word’s been good around here a long time before any of them got here, and I know it whether Beams does or not.”

            “Thanks, Jack, but it doesn’t matter now.” Nathaniel replied gruffly. He left with his father and brother, taking notice of Cora and meeting her gaze as they passed by. She watched him go feeling helpless and wanted to say something, anything, but she had no words.

            Alice took her arm, and the sisters headed slowly down the street to fetch their horses and ride home, not waiting for their father and Duncan. Edmund had still not returned yet by the time they had finished dinner, but that was often the norm for him, and he had likely stayed behind to deal with the incident at the saloon since most of the miners involved had been his men. Alice reclined on their father’s bed in the cabin’s main room with a book, keeping Cora company while she sat down to mend a shirt and some stockings. After a while Alice dozed off and had been asleep for a short time when there was suddenly a rapping at the front door. Before Cora could move to answer it, Duncan burst in.

            “Cora!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “I… I wanted to talk to you.”

            “Ssshhh!” Cora hushed him, but he’d already woken Alice, who sat up groggily.

            “It’s all right, Cora,” Alice assured her sister. “Talk to Duncan. I can’t sleep out here once Papa comes home anyway.” She rose and went into the cabin’s single tiny bedroom that Edmund had given up to his daughters on their arrival. She hated to leave her sister alone with Duncan, but she suspected she knew what he’d come to speak with her about, and Cora needed to get this over with once and for all. There was no sense dallying about it further, especially after tonight.

            “I’m sorry,” Duncan apologized more quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake Alice.” He sighed as he took in the unforgiving expression on her face, knowing she was upset about what had happened at the saloon and afterward. “Cora, when all this is over, what had to be said and done here for the sake of success will matter not at all. Don’t you see? When we are married, and away from here, we will be able to settle comfortably for the rest of our lives and never give another though to any of this. We will be a marvelous couple, I know it, and it would make your father happy, too.”

            Cora’s heart sank. How could he say these things? What _had_ to be said and done here? He didn’t _have_ to say what he’d said earlier. Perhaps lying and hurting other people wouldn’t matter to him later, but it would matter to her, and she could not, would not, spend the rest of her life with someone who thought they could simply leave here once it was all done and settle with a clean conscience. She loved her father, but she didn’t want to marry someone like him - someone who might possibly be even more misguided about what really mattered in life, and who obviously thought that not all people were created equal.

            “Duncan, I promised you an answer…” she began, clutching the bundle of mending to her and looking him straight in the eye. “You have complimented me with your patience and persistence, but I would rather make the gravest of mistakes than surrender my own judgment.” Duncan looked genuinely stunned, but Cora had made her decision and she felt a great sense of vindication as she continued. “If I had the feelings I ought to have, I would have known it long ago. Please accept this as my final answer. It must be no.”

            “I see,” Duncan said weakly, his shoulders sagging. After a pause he gathered himself erect and left without so much as a ‘good night’, shutting the door with a hollow thud. When he was gone, Cora leaned against the wall with a sigh of immense relief. Behind the bedroom door just feet away, Alice nodded to herself, proud of her sister.

            As Duncan mounted his horse and rode away from the cabin in the evening sunlight that would not fade for hours yet, his mind raced. He’d had a plan, and this was not how it was supposed to play out. He thought back to the night before he’d left for Seattle, when he’d spoken to Munro about proposing to Cora, and Munro had given his blessing, and the papers he’d noticed strewn across his writing desk while they’d talked. He’d thought that surely things would go his way then, but now she had refused him, and he was beginning to suspect that smug Poe bastard had something to do with it. But this couldn’t just be the end, could it? Everything he’d done, all these years working with her father, biding his time… Cora just needed to see things a different way, that was all. There had to be another way to set this right, and he would figure it out.

* * *

**Author’s Note:**

_druz’ya moi_ (Russian): “My friends”

 _milaya_ (Russian): “pretty” or “sweet” (a term of endearment)

            Oh, you guys. It’s been months, and I’m sorry for making you wait so long for this update! Life is off the hook sometimes, and as usual, a lot has been going on outside of writing that has kept me from finishing this chapter in a reasonable and/or predictable amount of time. I’m working more hours now, we’ve spent a lot of spare time over the last couple of months getting the garden going, we are getting ready for my niece’s upcoming wedding, my kiddo and I were both sick on and off, and I had hand surgery a few weeks ago for trigger fingers. That’s only some of the craziness, so trust me when I say I have a good excuse for taking this long, but still, I hate to keep you (and me) hanging. I so appreciate the PMs I’ve gotten in the meantime expressing desire for an update, because that means you haven’t given up on me, and I love you!

            So this chapter is sort of a gateway chapter, because now the story can really get going. Obviously some things are different from film canon in this chapter, as they are adjusted to work with this AU and some of the character differences. Part of what took so long with this chapter was getting the conflict set up right in my head so that it would go down on paper as something realistic. I started and scrapped that scene several times before I felt like it was working enough to get the whole last section of this chapter written. The beginning was easy – anyone can imagine Alice and Cora’s excitement coming to this new place, coupled with some complicated stirrings of romantic feelings for both sisters. I think when most people picture Alaska they think of southern Alaska where there are still a lot of trees. I’ve been there around Anchorage and it’s drop-dead gorgeous. Nome, however, is far enough north that it has very few of anything that could really be called a tree, so it’s mostly open tundra aside from the rivers. I’ve seen that kind of landscape out near Kodiak Pass, and while it is much different, it has its own striking beauty too. Cora and Alice would certainly have never seen anything like it before, and it would take some adjustment, especially to the extended summer daylight hours in the Arctic Circle.

            I wanted a realistic conflict that would bring about the same type of argument Nathaniel and his family had with Munro in the film out of concern for the local population, and I hope that I’ve accomplished that with the mining-effects-on-fish thing. This was probably a very real side effect of moving massive amounts of soil on the snake river and its tributaries. At first gold could practically just be picked up on the beaches, but later it had to be dug for. This is not the type of underground mining that Munro would have been doing in Cripple Creek, but it absolutely had effects on wildlife and the indigenous population on the Seward Peninsula.

            As for characters and tweaks, obviously Magua is getting a weird kind of makeover in this story, but y’all still don’t quite know where that’s going, so I’ll leave you to wonder. I still like that I got to use Wyatt Earp in this story, too, heehee. He and Josie will be around here and there for sure. Mikhail and Nayak are just completely new OC’s. I feel like Cora and Alice should have some kind people around them after the life they left, especially because their father is a workaholic kind of like he was in the film, even though his job is totally different here. And with him being a miner instead of the commanding officer of a fort, obviously Jeffrey Beams (who was a British officer in the film), takes the more commanding role in this AU as the Marshal in Nome. Duncan is a lot like the film version of himself, except I’m starting to think he might be more of a jerk than he was in the film (sorry, Duncan, you’re just doomed to either be a jerk, or dead, or both). He certainly isn’t winning any brownie points with Cora.

            Things are going to get interesting from here, and I’m looking forward to upcoming chapters. I’m really going to make my best effort not to make you wait four months for another update (hides face in shame), but I certainly can’t say it will happen in two weeks like it used to.

            Music for this chapter stays in keeping with the bluegrass sounds of its predecessors:

  1. Chapter opening: “Flowers of Edinburgh” by Pete Huttlinger
  2. Disembarking the canoe: “Interlude” by David Schnaufer
  3. On the busy shore at Nome: “Bonita and Bill Butler” by Alison Krauss & Union Station
  4. Settling into Alaskan life: “Up 18 North” by The Krueger Brothers
  5. Leaving Dr. Phelps/Streets of Nome: “The Ghost of Blind Willie Johnson” by Tony Furtado
  6. Trouble at the saloon/Marshal’s office: Opening of “Mudville” by Tony Furtado (it’s perfectly ominous-sounding until about a minute or so in)
  7. Leaving Beams’ office/Cora rejects Duncan/Chapter close: “Uncommon Ritual” by Bela Fleck, Mike Marshall & Edgar Meyer



            That’s all for now, my friends! Stay tuned, and as always, thank you for reading and supporting, PM’s, kudos, comments and reviews! I’d never have kept writing if not for all of your beautiful selves.


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